Reminiscence
by SaturnineSunshine
Summary: Sequel to Allusions. Quotes from season 3. "Just let me keep the box." The conclusion to this very long and arduous fic. I hope you enjoyed.
1. Reversals of Fortune Part I

**A/N**: So, yes. I decided to continue Allusions. This is under a different name because obviously Allusions was getting to a ridiculous length and its Season 3 time! I really hope this is up to all of your expectations. And this should be up to a higher caliber of writing as a whole because now I have a beta when I didn't before.

**Summary**: He could never see her laughing and flirting with other men because if he had deported and ruined men of hers when they weren't even together, he didn't know what he would do if he found another man hitting on his kept woman.

**Disclaimer**: Quotes belong to GG and all thanks should go to the amazing **comewhatmay.x** because she's actually going to beta this entire fic. Let's hope she doesn't get bored.

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**Three Hours**

_Thank you. It's been three hours. I've missed you._

_Let me make it up to you. Let's get out of here._

_Or we could stay..._

0:00

"Her."

Blair felt his eyes on her face as she leaned up against the bar. Their game had always contained this moment of anxiety. She could never look at him as he scoped out their target. She was always afraid of that flash of desire, and then she would be tossed aside like last season's Louboutins.

But she needed this.

She needed him to humiliate those models, tourists, and Upper West Siders. Because in that instant, when he looked at her with that provocative smirk, she knew she had him. And that was something that no Ashley Hinshaw could say.

"You sure?"

Blair finally forced herself to look into his slanting eyes. It was always a push and pull with him. A simple look from him could make her insecure in a way even her mother couldn't. But then there was this look. This look that forced her to smile and laugh like no one else could ever make her do.

"I'm getting a little bored of these model types," he elaborated.

"Are you?" Blair asked.

She wasn't convinced.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" Blair sighed.

"They're all the same," Chuck said. "Predictable."

"As opposed to..." Blair pushed.

There was that smirk again. Chuck leaned into her. She had forgotten what it was like to see that smirk so often throughout the day. But at the last second he pulled away.

"Tease."

"You'll find out when you find me," he taunted.

Blair hated the bitch already.

0:31

Chuck Bass was bored. There would always be that initial rush with the mark who never know what was coming. Because apparently even those who had the code to George Clooney's castle weren't privy to one fact.

Blair Waldorf was the crazy bitch around here.

Now Chuck Bass was bored and impatient and the slightest flash of blonde hair only reminded him more that models would forever abuse the term 'fashionably late.'

Not that she knew she was on a schedule or anything.

1:07

Blair checked her Cartier watch.

She knew how Chuck felt about those who didn't have anything less than impeccable timing.

Ironic, because she was always the one who seemed to be waiting on him.

**Im bored**

It was one of their rules. They had to have a fasting period between hits otherwise it wouldn't work. Otherwise the real and true feeling of complete, irrational jealousy—paired with the need to punish him—wouldn't consume her.

Even in text, he could still make her laugh.

**Patience, my love.**

But there was still the subtext that allowed her to spy on him.

Just because she could.

**This better be worth it.**

That made her scowl.

**Arent I always?**

She hoped he could sense her outrage through print.

**I hope ur wearing ur La Perlas**

2:03

When this game had first begun, he had been worried. He remembered that turning point the very first time he saw his one and only lover shriek obscenities at the skank who was hitting on him.

He couldn't get her clothes off fast enough. He knew that Blair had her own reasons for doing what she did, but he would rather not know them. He would rather just get turned on by the fact that she marked him as hers. It was nothing that he had ever envisioned for himself.

Then again, his fifteen-year old self had never seen her naked.

But it had still worried him. When model after tourist after Upper West Sider was drawn into Blair's flawlessly spun web, he had begun to worry. He remembered her insecurity during the Reign of Nathaniel of people as close to her as her best friend. And he was highly aware of the fact that had become a recurring theme.

He was sure it would all blow up and all he would have left of her was a sparkling slip and the remnants of his heart that had ceased to be. He was worried because if there was one thing he wouldn't be able to take, it would be her playing the cheating bitch and him being the scorned man. He understood that it wasn't fair but he was certain of one thing.

No matter how jealous Blair got of his conquests that had been—and would always be—in the past, it could never even come close to the irrational jealousy he felt when another man even deigned to look her way.

He knew it was wrong. But Blair could get over her problems. Though he was constantly comforted with smug relief with the memory that he had been the first one to touch her, there was still the problem of his best friend. There was still all the rest. There was Marcus, Carter, Jack. There were the men that followed her perfection, perfection that she couldn't even see.

She couldn't. She saw her best friend's beauty, but she was blind to the many pairs of eyes that followed her.

It was easier that way. Then she wouldn't stray from him. He wouldn't let her.

It still worried him.

He didn't want the tables to be turned on him. He didn't want her to one day suggest that maybe their roles should be reversed.

Because he could never, _never_ play that game. He could never see her laughing and flirting with other men because if he had deported and ruined men of hers when they weren't even together, he didn't know what he would do if he found another man hitting on his kept woman.

So for now he would do this.

Because at least a male model with no imperfections wasn't hitting on Blair.

2:13

Blair knew that Chuck couldn't see her. But she saw him. She saw that frayed dress walk into the bar. But she kept her place. Because that was the game.

2:15

He knew she was watching him. It made him relieved. At least she wasn't killing time with the bartender who he could have fired in an instant.

2:22

Chuck was supposed to be the predator. Blair was supposed to be the predator. But the second that Ashley Hinshaw walked in there, she had her eyes set on Chuck Bass.

If she was lucky, she wouldn't have her American Girl hair torn out.

2:25

Chuck was worried again. It was easy to display his indifferent facade for the world to see, but when Blair walked out of the bar, he was worried. He knew he had things under control. He could manipulate a woman like it was going out of style.

Even though there was always the exception. And that exception had just left him to his own devices.

It didn't matter. He would humiliate this girl for Blair.

He would make her proud of him. He would make Blair never leave him.

2:55

"Where's your limo?"

She was the exact sort of girl Blair loved to humiliate. Blonde. Poreless. Model. Certainly, Chuck couldn't understand the fascination. He knew it was just a creative outlet for Blair who still held those destructive tendencies towards her best friend.

Chuck was more than happy to oblige.

But it was that one word that had almost ruined his facade. The very notion that this unworthy could gain entrance to the sacred limo, where no one else was allowed, was sacrilege.

And he would make sure she was aware of it.

"I gave my driver the day off."

For a moment, he could feel his features morph into a dark expression of disdain. But it was only a second and after all, she was just a model.

2:59:58

"It's better to wait."

2:59:59

"How long?"

3:00:00

"Now."

And it was all he could think of through her hysteria. It was how beautiful she looked in that dress and how her summer highlighted hair shone as her curls shook with aggression. He wanted to keep playing the part of the cheating bastard but it was just so hard.

"Blair. I can explain."

She was just too irresistible. It was lucky, really, that his lines were limited and hers was full of anger and beauty.

And Blair was nodding and the girl was leaving and it was all he could do but hold back his smirk at her admittance of just how horrible she was.

_Haven't you heard? I'm the crazy bitch around here._

He loved her. And he would never stop telling her that.

3:01

His back hit the wall hard and all he could taste was her tongue plundering his.

He could tell she had just drunk a cranberry vodka.

"Again," he whispered into her ear.

"I missed you," she promised, her light laughter echoing around him. He tried to remember, but he truly couldn't recall the last time she was so carefree like this. Never with Nate—certainly not with Marcus. And although there may have been others he couldn't possibly care because she had just said the one thing that got him every time.

_Or we could stay._

He could read Blair euphemisms like his native tongue and he knew exactly what that meant.

"And what if we get caught?" he asked teasingly. He knew that this was a game, just like all the others. If anything, she wanted to get caught.

He taught her to want to get caught.

"I suppose that the most eligible bachelors of Manhattan will just have to see me in my indecency."

He knew she was playing with him but that fire licked his insides and he grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, spinning her around so it was her back against the wall.

"Is that what you really want?" he asked. "You want them to hear you scream louder than you ever have with anyone else?"

"Maybe."

Her tone could be construed as coy but he just didn't care anymore.

He was finally looking at his girlfriend in all her sordid pleasure, skirt hiked up past her waist, legs locked around his back, and he wondered why this was something that he had ever resisted.

This was Blair Waldorf—his girlfriend.

"Just try not to shriek my name too loudly, lover."

And he was never letting her go.

**Enemies**

_Sleeping with the enemy is hot. Why do you think I had the whole Ivanka thing?_

There was a rule. It was implemented at the exact same time that Georgina Sparks raked the virginity out of him, and maybe for that exact reason. But there was a rule. And Chuck had to admit, he had Georgina to thank for it. Because if it hadn't been for her, Chuck never would have devised the rule that he only slept with the same woman once.

And that was that.

It was the summer before junior year that Chuck realized it wasn't exactly that rules were made to be broken. It was just that there were certain exceptions to the rule.

Ivanka Trump was the first.

At the time, Chuck, of course, wanted to believe that she would be the only exception—now and forever. Because just like Bart's detestation of the color purple, Chuck would do anything that his father loathed.

Including the daughter of the arch nemesis of Bart Bass' company.

At the time, it made perfect sense in the fifteen-year old's—soon to be sixteen—mind. Ivanka was older and experienced, and if his father discovered this indiscretion, Chuck couldn't help but not care. It wasn't solely because Ivanka was hot. The situation was. For a moment, Chuck considered alerting the old man who abhorred the very name.

Until someone beat him to it.

Blair Cornelia Waldorf.

Chuck really shouldn't have been surprised. Ever since Blair had somehow manipulated her way into Nathaniel's good graces to gain the title of girlfriend Chuck had realized that the very life of his best friend was being sucked out of him.

Chuck hated her. More than the harpy Georgina and at the moment, even more than himself. If there was one thing that Chuck had been focused on other than bedding women since the seventh grade, it was ridding Nathaniel of the leech that had attached herself to his very being.

And now this.

Blair Waldorf smiled that deceptively polite smile, shouldering past Chuck with an extra jab to his ribs. In front of his father, Chuck refused to cringe at the bitch's sharp elbow.

He was used to deflecting her attacks by now. Physical and and social.

"Ivanka Trump, Charles?" Bart demanded. "You know how detrimental this will be to the company."

Usually, Chuck took his father's criticism to heart. Almost always he promised he would never disappoint Bart again. And yet there was something wrong this time.

He couldn't understand it. He couldn't understand why he hadn't seen that devil disguised as a pristine angel and her bid for his destruction. He couldn't help but berate himself for the fact that this was Blair. And Blair hated him more than she hated the way her flirty best friend would drape herself all over her boyfriend.

More than she hated secrets.

Blair and Chuck hated each other with the most fundamental passion. He should have seen this coming.

That was why what came out of his father's mouth next completely disturbed and took Chuck by surprise.

"I can never understand your compulsion to completely humiliate this family," Bart said.

"I'm sorry, sir," Chuck said genuinely.

He truly was. He hated disappointing his father. Then again, it was his father that taught him the virtues of his arrogant self-absorption. Really, it was counter-intuitive.

"The first sign you show of settling down is with a Trump," Bart said with disdain, as though Chuck were a thirty-year old and not the fifteen-year old not even close to graduating high school. "Why can't you entertain a nice girl? Like Blair Waldorf."

"_Blair_?"

Chuck couldn't help the incredulity seething from his voice and Bart's cold eyes snapped to him with disapproval. Chuck looked to the ground.

"With all due respect, sir," Chuck said tersely, "Blair is the devil incarnate. I wouldn't touch her if she gave me her entire trust fund."

"You would be blessed to have a high class girl such as Blair to even look at you," Bart said coldly. "She's a Waldorf, you know."

"I hadn't been aware of that," Chuck responded dryly.

"This dalliance with that Trump girl is over."

It wasn't a question, but as Chuck left his father's office, it occurred to him that it wasn't even necessary. He was mulling this over as he turned the corner, only to see Blair leaning against his father's secretary's desk.

She had been waiting for him.

"So," she said brightly, "have you gotten yourself shipped off to Switzerland yet?"

"Switzerland?" Chuck asked half-heartedly, trying to discover what had changed in such a short period.

"I hear they have fantastic boarding schools there," Blair answered. "Maybe you can come back to the city for college. Though even with your father's connections, I doubt that's a viable option."

"Listen, Waldorf," Chuck said darkly, cutting off the banter that usually ensued between the two of them. "You don't want me as your enemy."

"Chuck," Blair said laughingly. "We became enemies the day I started dating Nate. Don't fool yourself otherwise."

"You just brought out my worst self," he warned her.

"I'm shaking," she taunted him. "But let's be honest, Bass. This was just a warm up. Outing you to your father about a Trump? Hardly even worth my time. But seeing your face after walking out of that office was worth every wasted second."

"One day," Chuck said, "Nate is going to find out about you."

Blair sighed, and for the first time, Chuck wondered if what he saw was even a trace of humanity.

Not that he had any himself.

"Nate is the only redeeming quality about me," she answered. "I suppose that's the only thing we have in common."

"Don't believe for even a second that you and I will be anything other than at war," Chuck said. "And you are going to lose."

"Just try and convince yourself," Blair said. "Because from where I'm standing, I'm already the victor."

Blair began to slide away from the desk but before she could make her escape, he caught onto her elbow, turning her to whisper savagely in her ear.

"For now."

They were caught for a moment in what seemed and endless rift of time, staring into the other's bottomless eyes.

"Forever," she sneered before ripping herself from the grasp he didn't realize was so hard.

As he watched her walk away with her perfect poise, he wondered why he cared about the exact fragrance she was wearing that had just rubbed off on him.

And how good it smelled.

**Acceptance**

_Being accepted for who you are is crucial, Nathaniel. Like Blair accepts me._

From an early age, all Nate could remember was trying to make Chuck and Blair act civilly towards each other. But there were times where he strangely felt like the third wheel to a combat mission that he wasn't briefed for or even aware of.

This was his life from age twelve onwards. The constant battles grew tiresome, and from the verbal barbs being flung at each other with such ferocity, he felt like he was at Wimbledon.

And then he fell in love. Real love. Not the puppy love or slight affection he felt for Blair. He saw his destiny and even though she was twirling on the bar of the Campbell Apartment, it didn't matter. He knew what he had to do.

And the fact was that he had to mope around and brood for a month after he realized that Serena van der Woodsen had departed for Cornwall, Connecticut—something that she never even bothered to tell the love of her life that she was doing. Nate thought that he had a right to know.

It got to be too much. It was his fourth week while listening to Evanescence and Death Cab for Cutie that he became aware of exactly how pathetic he was. Serena was going to come back one day and she wouldn't want this shell of a man he had become—even if she was the one who resorted him to it.

He almost choked on his own air when he saw something that had to be impossible. The fates wouldn't be that cruel. There was no possible way that Chuck and Blair could ever be on the same side.

This had to mean Armageddon.

Suddenly, two pairs of dark eyes were on him and he had to wonder why he felt as though he were intruding on something private. But it was just his girlfriend and his best friend sitting in the corner of the party together. It didn't matter that Nate had never seen a skirt of that length on Blair, nor Chuck's arm strewn so casually and audaciously over her bare shoulders.

He was the common denominator between them. They wouldn't even talk to each other of it wasn't for him. He had nothing to worry about.

Chuck raised his eyebrows at Nate in some sort of nonverbal cue that Nate didn't understand. It was suddenly occurring to him as he neared the dark pair how comfortable they seemed next to each other. Chuck was leaning back in his casual position, and Blair was his foil, sitting with perfect posture.

But as soon as she laid her eyes on Nate, she was on her feet, clad in sky-high heels (another new edition) and breezing right by him. Nate looked back at his best friend, who was suddenly sitting up very straight as Blair picked her way through the party. Nate waited, always accustomed to Blair doting on him but she was suddenly past him, not even seeming to notice he was there.

Nate spun suddenly, catching her arm. "Hey."

Blair turned coolly, looking at him with icy eyes he couldn't remember ever seeing before, easily extricating herself from his light touch.

"Oh," she remarked, "so you're talking to me now."

Nate looked to the one who could usually defuse these situations, but Chuck was already there, shouldering between the two.

"I..." Nate said, startled.

"Why don't you sheath your claws for a second, kitten," Chuck said dryly. Nate expected a snap retort, but instead he felt uncomfortable watching the two of them watch each other intently. "Nate was at his grandfather's the past month."

"Interesting," Blair said, her eyes never leaving Chuck's face. "Do they not have phones at the van der Bilt compound? I can't recall. It's been so long since I've been there."

That was the exact moment. That was the moment where Nate suddenly felt displaced from his own relationship. For a moment, he felt like he was looking at two people who knew each other so well they didn't even have a need for words. He was sure he had just stumbled upon some bizarre alternate universe, but through the rest of the summer, he realized something had changed drastically while he was wallowing in his bedroom, eating cookie dough and watching _Love, Actually_.

"So," Chuck said outside of the Hamptons estate, "you finally decided to stop whatever complex you've developed in the past month and receded from your hermit ways."

"What does that mean?"

He really didn't know. Chuck smirked.

"She's not wrong you know," he finally said. "No one's heard from you in a month. We were speculating on whether or not you found my good stash from Thailand."

"We?" Nate asked. "Since when are you and Blair such close friends?"

"You missed a lot," Chuck said in explanation.

Nate looked at Chuck expectantly.

"Blair's been going through some things," Chuck shrugged. "And you weren't there. Thanks, by the way, for making me the default boyfriend. I will never forgive you."

"I miss Serena too, alright?"

Nate reached out for the roach, however, Chuck just looked at him with something that he could only think was a glare. But that was reserved for Chuck's enemies. Not him.

"You do know that Blair's parents are getting divorced," Chuck articulated. "Harold just moved to Paris."

"Really?"

"Why do you think she's been calling you nonstop?" Chuck asked. His voice was escalating and Nate couldn't understand why he was getting so upset. It was Chuck. Chuck didn't feel, he just did. "I thought she would at least wear you down enough so you would answer the phone."

"Sorry," Nate said indifferently.

"Sorry," Chuck stated incredulously. "How do you think she's feeling right now? First her best friend deserts her. Then her own father and now her boyfriend? No wonder she sought me for comfort."

Nate shrugged.

In retrospect, he suspected that was where he went wrong. While Chuck was holding a joint and staring at him, he should have done something. He should have made some sort of effort.

This was only evident when it was made apparent to him by the two most unlikely of sources.

"I need your help."

Sitting next to Blair, Nate turned immediately to his friend. But it was then he realized Chuck hadn't been addressing him at all.

"Tell me," Blair said, though not looking up from her phone as she texted.

"So last night-"

Nate jumped suddenly because Blair was actually laughing and it wasn't something he had remembered hearing from her for a long time.

"Really, Bass?" she asked. "We go through this every week."

"Some of them just can't take a hint," Chuck shrugged.

"I think you need to refine your technique," Blair replied.

"I think you need to turn on the Queen B terror so she leaves me alone," Chuck replied.

"The things I do for you," Blair rolled her eyes before getting up.

"What was that?"

Chuck had been watching Blair's departure, seeming to just realize Nate was actually there.

"What?" Chuck asked.

"You and Blair," Nate said.

"It's just a scheme," Chuck said.

"But you're talking," Nate said. "Like you're friends."

"We are friends," Chuck said.

"You don't have friends that are girls."

"There's a first time for everything."

End of conversation.

So Nate just stopped thinking about it. Blair was his girlfriend and even though scandal spread through this town like Chuck's paranoia of STD's, there was no reason to doubt them.

"What's that all about?"

The ball hit the hoop and Jeremy caught the rebound before returning.

"What's what all about?" Nate asked, dribbling the ball. Jeremy looked over his shoulder to the two that were on the bench, seemingly watching the game.

"You know that Chuck doesn't really play basketball," Nate shrugged. "He doesn't consider something a sport unless it has two legs and a skirt."

"Yeah," Jeremy said suspiciously. "I mean what's he doing with your girlfriend?"

Nate looked back to the bench to see Chuck and Blair deep in conversation.

"They're friends."

"Since when?"

Nate was starting to get annoyed with the interrogation and in his frustration, made the ball rebound off the rim.

"They're just talking," Nate replied.

"He's Chuck Bass," Jeremy laughed. "Don't you think you should check the status of your girlfriend's virginity before-"

"Before jumping to conclusions?" Nate demanded. This was definitely ruining his buzz, not to mention the fact that had never occurred to him. "He's my best friend. He wouldn't do that."

"And Blair's a hot chick with a pool on Gossip Girl betting on when she'll finally give it up," Jeremy said. "Are you willing to bet on that?"

"Do you want to sleep with her?" Nate asked. It came out more curious than threatening and that was what made Jeremy laughed.

"Dude," he said. "She's Blair Waldorf."

Nate wasn't sure how he felt about that answer and it was on the night of the Kiss On The Lips party that he discovered why.

Blair wasn't anything he found himself painfully desiring. She was just Blair. A girl he had been dating since the seventh grade who wouldn't even let him past second base.

But he stood there, sipping a beer as he watched his girlfriend in her strapless dress, his best friend behind her, watching as a cab sped into the night. It didn't make any sense. Chuck's eyes were full of bloody vengeance and when Blair turned to greet his gaze, Nate didn't like what he saw.

Understanding.

Nate walked back into the party, watching as Chuck wiped blood from his nose and he couldn't help but notice it.

Blair and Chuck were together _all_ the time. He knew that he had neglected Blair in the past, but the way she looked at Chuck was a way she had never looked at Nate. They were alone in another corner and Nate didn't understand it at all. He didn't understand the hushed voices and furtive glances and he definitely didn't get why Blair was getting ice for Chuck's eye.

"What are you doing?"

Blair looked back at him in confusion and for a moment, he wasn't sure if she heard him or not.

"Getting ice for Chuck's eye."

She was staring at him like the obviousness of it was painful and he had to gather his bearings again.

"He got punched."

"Did you ever think he did something to deserve it?"

Nate didn't know what was coming over him. He would never double-cross his best friend like that, but what Blair was doing was so unwonted he couldn't even grasp it.

"I have no doubt," Blair said. "That's why people get punched. And considering it's Chuck, that's not exactly surprising."

Blair thanked the bartender and was about to return to Chuck, who was looking impatiently in her direction. Nate was finding it strange how she was smiling at him.

"Why are you friends all of a sudden?" Nate finally asked. It was something that had been bothering him. Mortal enemies couldn't be brought together through pure loneliness. It didn't make sense.

"Listen, Nate," Blair snapped. "I don't know what your problem is, but Chuck's your best friend. And some interloper from Brooklyn just crashed my party and assaulted one of my friends. I didn't realize you wanted to be across the bridge so badly."

"That was the girl's brother," Nate said. "Chuck took some freshman up to the roof."

"Why does this surprise you?" Blair asked. "You've been friends with him practically since birth."

"I'm not surprised," Nate said. "I just don't understand why you're suddenly so okay with it. You hate Chuck."

"I did," Blair said. "Things are different now."

"How?"

"Why do you care?" Blair asked. "I thought you'd be happy that we're getting along now."

To be honest, Nate didn't know why he cared so much. He wasn't jealous. Chuck and Blair being amicable would make for a lot less civil wars on the Upper East Side. But Blair was Blair. She didn't consort with hedonists or lechers.

"But he's Chuck Bass," Nate said.

"Exactly," Blair answered. "I just realized that we have a lot more in common than I thought."

"He's a scheming manipulator," Nate protested. He knew there was disgust in his voice when Blair recoiled as though she had just been slapped.

"Yes," Blair said. "He is. And I understand him. Now if you don't mind, my hedonist manipulating friend just got punched in the face."

Nate stared off at her as she walked over to the couch. She crossed her legs, her skirt riding up her thighs as she placed ice across Chuck's eye. Chuck flinched for a second but then after a moment they were both smirking at each other strangely and Nate finally understood.

Chuck and Blair accepted each other for who they were. Nate wasn't completely oblivious to Blair's vengeful tendencies but seeing them together truly worried him. Blair was always reminding Nate of how he would be going to Dartmouth and her to Yale. How they had endless parties to go to. How his mother would be devastated if he came to one of her functions high.

And then there was Chuck. Chuck, who never looked at a woman in they eye unless there was something in it for him. Chuck, who swaggered around parties buzzing on his father's single malt. Chuck, who knew every legitimate dealer in town.

And he understood.

Blair accepted Chuck. The way she would never accept Nate.


	2. Reversals of Fortune Part II

**A/N**: So glad that you guys are still reading this. This is still Allusions, even though it's called by another name, but it will only be S3 and we'll see where we go from there.

**Summary**: "I can't be that guy, Blair," he said. "I can't give you a van der Bilt diamond and the perfect life. But I love you. More than myself. That's what I can promise you."

**Disclaimer**: Quotes belong to GG and characters, obviously. Thanks tons to **comewhatmay.x **for the awesome beta.

Shameless Plug: Since you're obviously already reading this, you don't need to watch the promo video I made for it, but if you're interested, its on youtube. http : / / www . youtube . com / watch ? v = ZpQNYMZzPeY. Just removed the spaces. The link is also on my profile.

* * *

**Idea**

_Wait, you do what? I go away to Europe for three months and you turn from Jane Austen to Anaïs Nin? Is there anything Chuck Bass can't get you to do?_

_It was my idea._

Blair remembered the exact moment that her life changed. It wasn't difficult to figure, but she had to thank Nate. If he hadn't been the one to finally face the fact that their attempt at love was something of the past, she never would have gone to _Victrola_, leaving Nate in the dust.

It was only on that stage, in a haze of champagne and something else that she couldn't name, did it become very apparent that Chuck Bass was watching her. Not just looking at her like he would glance at exotic dancers or smile condescendingly at sophomores that fluttered around him like heartsick groupies.

Chuck Bass was watching her with such interest and so intently that Blair began to believe that she was someone worthy of being watched. He looked fascinated.

That was when she dropped her dress.

Relaying this story to Serena was something she had struggled over for a very long time. She hadn't even come close to telling her exactly where she had dropped her virginity and who had so graciously picked it up with that self-assured smirk of his.

All Serena knew was that Blair Waldorf had given her virginity to Chuck Bass at some point between breaking things off with Nathaniel Archibald and her seventeenth birthday party. Blair knew that Serena had absolutely no idea about burlesque clubs and limos because of the very judgment that always consumed the blonde's expression whenever a certain two syllables breached the topic of conversation.

Chuck.

Bass.

That's how Blair liked it. Keeping Serena in the dark was the safest way to go. She had only just discovered that her best friend had slipped back into very familiar patterns with the dark prince when Gossip Girl had sent out a mass blast.

Blair was mulling this exact thing over in her brain in a Hamptons house, glaring over at the other side of the bar. Serena didn't know about burlesque or limos. She knew about bedrooms at parties, but really, there were things that Blair had done that would make Serena blush.

And she had liked every single one of them.

Yes, Chuck had a particular influence over her but at this exact moment, that was done. At this exact moment, her connection with Chuck Bass had just come to an end. Serena would come home to Blair's triumph because Chuck Bass would officially be castrated.

And the bitch that was currently sitting on his lap eviscerated.

"Gin martini."

"Right away, Miss Waldorf."

The comforting notion that accompanied a martini was crushed cruelly as she slammed the glass back on the bar top.

And that's when it happened. That's when the split decision was made. It had always been how Chuck differed from the others. He didn't take her for granted and he accepted her for the manipulating, conniving bitch that she was.

She would not be made a victim. Not anymore. Love for him didn't swell in her heart the way it had for the past months. Instead, there was the undeniable craving for blood and she would be satiated.

He saw her before she had a chance to speak.

"Blair."

For a moment, she was deterred. There was her soon to be ex-boyfriend with a blonde draped wantonly over him—but that wasn't what had stopped her.

For years she had been Chuck's friend and sometimes confidante. But there was something in his expression that she had rarely ever seen.

Pleading. There was something in his expression that told her to believe anything that came out of that cheating bastard's mouth. It was exactly how he willed women to give up all their morals and virtues. It was how he had convinced Headmistress Queller that no, that wasn't him with an underclassman on a desk in an abandoned classroom. She knew it was exactly how he was planning on telling her that he would always be faithful to her.

Unfortunately for him, she was immune to it all.

"Get up, skank."

"Excuse me?"

The bitch was deigning to look at her right in her eyes, and Blair knew there would be more than one murder tonight.

"Oh," Blair said with her fake pleasantness. "Along with being a predatory whore, you also appear to be deaf. Stop using him as a barstool and get the hell out."

"We were in the middle of something," the girl replied haughtily.

"Oh, were you?" Blair asked. "My mistake. I suppose this must be someone else's boyfriend you appear to be sitting on."

"Please," she replied. "Whether he's attached or not doesn't change the fact that we were just about to take this up to my room."

"Make no mistake," Blair threatened. "He and I are through with our _attachments_. But that doesn't change the fact that I have to kill him. So get up or I will make you get up."

Blair understood completely that she was getting nowhere with this heroin chic type and resorted to the only thing she could think of, seeing that she was short of a Nairtini.

She tipped her glass full of gin over the both of them before turning on her heel to head up the stairs. She would have let her tears of humiliation come cascading down her face if she didn't hear leather Bottegas pounding up the stairs behind her.

Despite her obvious feminine empowerment in the bar downstairs, she couldn't help but feel that she was not ready to let Chuck go. She wasn't ready to leave him which she knew she would be forced to do once she faced the adulterous bastard.

Blair launched towards the door in attempt to lock it and block out whatever manipulation he had prepared for this moment, but it burst open before she could reach it.

"How could you?" Blair demanded the minute he closed the door behind him. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

"Blair, that wasn't what it looked like," he began to protest. That was something she hadn't been expecting. Chuck Bass, _pleading_. He wasn't smug or smarmy, or simply trying to get her into bed.

This was a caliber of evil on a whole different level.

"Really?" Blair sneered, refusing to let his plan work out as calculated. "So that wasn't an Abercrombie wannabe giving you a lap dance?"

"It wasn't," he insisted. "I was waiting for you."

"I hate to break it to you, Bass," Blair said. "But I don't have platinum highlights and smell of cheap perfume."

"You think I don't know that?" Chuck asked. "Why would I proposition some girl when we made plans to meet up?"

"So you're smart enough to keep your affairs secret?" Blair asked.

"No, I-"

"Enough, Chuck," Blair said. "I have been made a fool of with every man that I've ever been with and I thought this would be different. I thought we were different. Instead I find it was your plan the entire time to humiliate me-"

"No, Blair-"

"_Shut up,_" Blair snapped, not letting tears reach even the surface of her eyes. "You're just like the rest. You're worse. I told you I loved you and not only did you run away before saying it back-"

"That wasn't what happened," Chuck cut in coarsely. Blair stopped, glaring at him, incredulous that he would even think about interrupting her. "So shut up for a second and let me explain."

_What do we have, Chuck? You tell me._

_Tonight. So shut up and dance with me._

She didn't think he was aware of the exact implications of what he had just said, but he was looking at her like he might.

"I was waiting for you, but she just showed up," Chuck said. "Apparently she wasn't aware that Chuck Bass is in a committed relationship."

"That's it?" Blair asked dully. "_That's_ your explanation? You're just an innocent victim and some piece of trash just came onto you?"

She watched as his confidence wavered, the idea that she really wouldn't forgive him suddenly dawning on him.

"What do you want me to say?" Chuck finally asked weakly.

_What else is there?_

She hated those questions. As much as she hated waiting for an answer while waiting outside of a White Party.

"I want you to admit it," Blair replied. "I want you to stop lying to me. Everyone always lies to me. Just tell me the truth. Tell me you don't want only me anymore."

She watched astonishment flood his eyes.

"Don't," he growled. "Don't even think that for a second."

"How can I not?" Blair asked. "You spend the better part of your life trying to bed every woman in your line of vision and you expect me to believe that you're just going to stop?"

"Yes," Chuck said with conviction.

"Why?"

"Because I love you," he said in annoyance. "What other reason does there need to be?"

"I don't believe you."

"Why?" he asked back.

"Because I know you're lying."

"I'm not lying."

"Just stop," Blair said. "Stop doing that. Just tell me the truth."

"I am."

"Chuck," Blair retaliated hoarsely, feeling the tears finally make their appearance. "Stop lying to me."

"I'm not lying."

This time her anger exploded physically and her fist beat his chest.

"Stop lying."

"I'm not lying."

She hit him a few more times and he caught her wrists, holding her in close to him. She felt him. She felt her heart open up to him again and she felt forgiveness spread through her like she had always been afraid it would.

"It wasn't my fault she came onto me."

Blair shoved him away and before he could even react, she slapped him for the first time in her life.

At first she was afraid of his anger, or even the shock that was usually attributed to physical assault. She had never wanted to hurt him, but she just couldn't help it when it came to the subject of _them_.

But the anger never came.

They were just staring at each other one moment and the next they were making out furiously in the middle of the room, tugging at each other's clothes.

"I hate you," she told him coldly but they both knew that the moment he had stepped into that room, she believed him.

"I love you," he murmured truthfully against her mouth. "God, I love you."

It was enough. It was enough because they were suddenly on the floor with no clothes on and it was one of the hottest things she had ever done.

"I almost broke up with you via Gossip Girl."

His breath hit her hair roughly, still exerted the way she was.

"It wouldn't have mattered," he said. "I would have come after you."

"Good," Blair said. His perspiring body pressed against hers on the floor and she couldn't help but think it. "I kind of liked it."

"I should expect so after all this time."

"No," she laughed. "I liked yelling at that girl to get off of my boyfriend."

His hands molded to her hips affectionately and she knew he liked it too.

"You are so hot when you get territorial."

His tongue plundered her mouth and she was suddenly seeing the upside to this entire night.

"I want to do it again."

He pulled away, studying her face for a long moment. But then he was on her again because they were both very naked on a stranger's floor and it didn't take long until Blair's fingernails were digging into the carpet again.

That was all the answer she needed.

**Honeymoon**

_We had our honeymoon period and it was perfect._

They hadn't made it out of the limo.

Actually, they had. But only to stumble into his suite, frantically tearing at each other's clothes in a way that necessitated a trip to Bergdorf's the next day, just to rebuild her wardrobe.

He didn't mind.

He didn't mind because whenever he used to think about those victims, the ones who allowed themselves to be chained to girlfriends, all he pictured was death. He never imagined it would be like this. Then again, he never imagined it would be _Blair_.

He imagined boredom and refusal of sex. That was just something he wasn't willing to take.

But a week had passed and he still hated seeing her with clothes on.

So there they were in the back of his limo. Again.

Her purrs rumbling through her chest, her heels digging into his back and he just knew it. This was it for him.

She was it for him.

"We're late."

Chuck collapsed on top of her, gasping and shuddering, almost unable to hear her words.

"That's not exactly what I like to hear after we've finished," he finally said. But her laughter was clear and true as he rolled onto his side, taking in her mussed visage, knowing she had never looked more beautiful to him.

"Chuck," Blair said, leaning up on her elbows. "We're half an hour late."

"So?"

"So," she laughed again. "I don't know if you've realized this, but my mother doesn't believe in 'fashionably late.' We would have gotten here sooner if you hadn't mauled me right after we got into the limo."

"Good thing we budgeted for time or we'd be three hours late," he smirked. He looked on in disappointment as she reached for her clothing. Good thing he got there first. "No."

"No?" she asked incredulously.

"You can't have this back."

"Chuck Bass," Blair said in her authoritative voice that he liked hearing ennunciate his full name. "If you give me my clothing back and put some pants on, I promise I will make it up to you."

It was too tempting not to relent.

She knew what he liked.

It was torture. Having to sit there in his girlfriend's mother's penthouse and act gentlemanly, as was expected of a boyfriend of a Waldorf, was just torture. Of course he was well versed in social niceties and manners, but sitting by her with her hair pulled up and the provocative cut of her summer dress was not something he had envisioned having to endure when he imagined finally being with her again.

Blair smiled at him prettily.

He knew she was just taunting him. Like the pretty little tease that she was.

Like the girl he loved.

He was relieved that for a moment, the interrogation was off of him as Eleanor and Cyrus discussed their plans for the summer.

"Let's get out of here," Chuck suggested in Blair's ear, sliding his hand up her thigh. "Or we could stay."

Her nails dug into his hand causing him to wince. He covered it with a sip of his drink.

"Not here," Blair said through gritted teeth.

"Suddenly you're objecting."

"In front of my mother?" Blair asked rhetorically. "Yes."

"Really?" Chuck asked. "Because you don't seem to have a problem with doing it in front of Arthur."

"Technically," Blair replied, "we do it in back of Arthur. And the partition's up anyway."

"Really?" Chuck asked. "It wasn't last night."

_"What?"_

"Blair."

Eleanor was looking at Blair sternly after her outburst of outrage.

"I was just telling Cyrus how good it is to see you," Eleanor said. "The last time that I recall seeing you was at your graduation."

"Well you were in Paris, Mother," Blair replied, ignoring Chuck's hand sliding dangerously close to what was very inappropriate at a dinner with her mother.

"Dorota says you haven't been sleeping in your room all week."

"Well the chaise down here just looked so inviting," Blair replied sarcastically. Chuck smirked, knowing there was a different reason why the both of them were so fond of that particular piece of furniture.

"You've been sleeping in the living room?" Eleanor asked, scandalized.

"No, Mother," Blair sighed. "I'm an adult. I can do as I please."

"Or who," Chuck said slyly. Blair elbowed him harshly in the gut, relieved that her mother hadn't heard him.

Or at least appeared not to.

"So, Charles," Eleanor said, cleverly changing the subject as any proper woman of society should be able to. "What are your plans for this year?"

Blair blanched, knowing this was the exact reason Chuck had been hesitant about attending this dinner with her parents.

"You're not attending college, I hear."

"And I wonder where you heard that," Chuck said crossly, casting an eye towards Blair. But she shook her head vehemently.

It hadn't been her.

"Lily told me you'd moved out of the house," Eleanor continued.

"I didn't want to be in the way of the new family," Chuck answered scornfully. Blair tried to take his hand comfortingly, but he brushed off her touch.

"So you moved into your father's hotel," Eleanor supplied.

"Mother," Blair snapped. "He didn't come here to be interrogated."

"Can't a mother simply be interested in the goings on of her daughter's life?" Eleanor asked.

"Last time I checked, Chuck wasn't your daughter," Blair retorted.

"But he's part of your life."

"What are you worried about?" Blair demanded. "That he'll induct me into white slavery?"

"Actually," Chuck announced, cutting off Blair's defense. "I've been working on starting my own club."

"Really?" Eleanor asked. "Lily said that she was still in charge of Bass Industries."

"Well that's sort of the point," Chuck said. "I'm trying to start something that's mine, not my father's."

"An admirable goal," Eleanor smiled condescendingly, "in theory."

"In theory?" Blair seethed.

"It's fine," Chuck sighed with as good a facade of boredom as ever. He stood up. "But if you don't mind, I have to excuse myself for just a moment."

Blair knew better than to try and stop him as she watched him walk away from the table.

"What was that?" Blair demanded.

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic," Eleanor waved it away.

"You were the one who encouraged me to go after him," Blair said. "Why are you treating him like a detainee?"

"I just want to make sure that you're making the right choice, darling," Eleanor said. "You shouldn't waste your time on someone who will squander his life savings on a whim."

"You don't know anything," Blair said bravely, standing up from the table. "I believe in him. And anything you say can't change that."

Blair stormed away from the table, striding up the stairs, fully intent on slamming the door behind her.

But there Chuck was, sitting on her bed with a familiar look in his eyes and she knew that he had heard the entire conversation.

"Chuck," she began. He stood up from the bed to walk over to her.

"Blair," he said instead, cutting off her train of thought. "I came here tonight because I want you to be happy. However that is achieved. But I can't be Nate. I'm just not."

"Where is this coming from?" Blair asked, perplexed as to what he was even talking about.

"You want me to be perfect and straitlaced, but I'm just not," he said. "I'm selfish and hedonistic."

"You really think that after eighteen years I haven't realized this?" Blair scoffed. "Please."

"I can't be that guy, Blair," he said. "I can't give you a van der Bilt diamond and the perfect life. But I love you. More than myself. That's what I can promise you."

"Do you really think I want you to be like Nate?" Blair asked in disbelief.

"You brought me here, didn't you?"

"To have dinner with my mother?" Blair asked. "I brought you here because she asked. She was in town for one day and wanted to meet my boyfriend that she had never met. "

"She's met me before," Chuck said. "She just never liked me."

"You're a selfish hedonist," Blair rolled her eyes. "Why do you care what my mother thinks?"

"Because you do."

"When it's about me," Blair said. "But then again, you knew I was selfish too."

"You didn't want me here."

"Because I knew she would try and tear you apart like this," Blair said. "Even when she was the one who told me to demand your affections."

"What?" Chuck asked gently.

"The night of the graduation party," Blair rolled her eyes. "She said to not let you get away with running away."

And then her face was between his hands and she made sure to lock the door as he slammed her body against it.

"I didn't know you were so exuberant about my mother," Blair teased as they came up for air.

"Blair," Chuck said. "I can't be perfect."

"You are," Blair smiled. "Because we're perfect together. If I wanted to be with Nate, I wouldn't have dumped him at prom."

"Prom?" Chuck asked. "You mean a week before graduation?"

"Yes," Blair said. "What took you so long?"

"You should have told me."

He actually seemed upset that she hadn't told her ex-lover that she had broke up with her current boyfriend who was now her ex-boyfriend.

Again.

"I like how things ended up," she said fondly.

"How much?" Chuck taunted. His hand crept towards her hemline as his mouth trailed down her neck.

"My mother's downstairs," Blair reminded him as he pulled down her zipper.

"And I'm a hedonist," he replied in explanation. Blair pushed on his chest and he hesitated.

"I didn't say I wasn't going to do it," Blair said seductively as she let her dress drop to his floor.

"Something tells me that you don't exactly want me to be a gentleman right now," he said, pressing himself against the thankfully locked door.

"When have I ever?" she asked, nipping his earlobe playfully.

"Do you have any idea," Chuck growled in her ear, "how hard it was to restrain myself from you tonight?"

"My guess is very hard," Blair taunted, her hand trailing down his front. He trapped her wrists, pinning them above her head.

"Are you going to make it up to me now?" he asked with a furious kiss.

"Are you going to behave yourself?"

"No."

"Good," Blair answered as he pushed her up against the door. The door rattled from their exertion, her legs sliding up his back again.

"And what if someone hears us?" he asked hotly in her ear.

"I don't care," she answered, ripping his shirt open.

Yes. Blair Waldorf was definitely the perfect girlfriend.

**Gravestone**

_It is not a milestone, it's a gravestone. Settling down means death. Less sex, more silence._

Blair Waldorf was fairly acquainted with the cemetery of relationships. From age twelve to sixteen, she had watched what she thought must be the love of her life wither and die before her very eyes. She had witnessed this all while the life of the party, the golden princess straddled him, with a bottle of champagne and took his virginity with her.

So it was that morning that Blair came to an ugly realization.

"He's losing interest."

Blair stood in the doorway of the bedroom, watching Chuck read the paper and sip a mug of what could be coffee, but what she suspected was actually scotch.

Blair turned back to her phone, though she had to hold it a foot from her ear due to the club music in the background.

"_What_?"

Blair sighed. Serena had gone away for what the blonde had described as "an educational experience across Europe", but was quickly turning out to be a remake of club hopping in New York, only with laws more lax about the possession of hash.

"Serena," Blair said in annoyance, hating that her problems weren't the most important thing on everyone's mind. "Where are you? I'm having an actual crisis."

"_Blair_?" Serena asked, her voice crackling through an apparent Turkish pay-as-you-go phone. _"I can't hear you."_

"Well if you would step out of the club for five minutes-" Blair snapped.

_"Hold on."_

Blair heard strange muffling in the background and sounds of protest, but soon the noise receded.

_"What were you saying?"_

"He's losing interest," Blair whispered into the phone, knowing that Chuck's senses were heightened to a frightening degree.

"Losing interest in what?" Serena asked stupidly.

"Me," Blair snapped.

"_What_?" Serena asked in disbelief. _"No he's not."_

"And how do you know?" Blair asked. "You're in some club in Amsterdam. You're not even here."

_"I know Chuck_," Serena reasoned. _"There's no way he's getting bored of you."_

"So now he's bored of me?" Blair asked.

"_Blair_," Serena sighed at her friend's antics. _"Just talk to him._ _I'm sure-"_

"You know what," Blair cut in. "I'll just handle this myself."

She snapped her phone shut without another word.

"Who was on the phone?"

She should have hid herself better.

"Just Serena," Blair said, smiling falsely. Chuck looked up from his newspaper and something that looked a lot like suspicion clouded his face before he wiped it away.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Fine," Blair said, wanting to cringe at her own false tone. "But I have to go meet my mother at the atelier right now."

"Will I see you later?" he asked.

She wanted to believe that was a sign of at least some sort of interest in her but she couldn't ignore all the signs.

"Sure," Blair answered unconvincingly. He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek in farewell.

That just cinched it.

They were over.

Of course there had been no meeting with her mother. But even though Serena had been entirely unhelpful, she had given Blair an idea. It was how she ended up at one of the many clubs that didn't card, and all she needed was a name drop.

She didn't know exactly what she was doing. Maybe she just wanted to ignore the shambles that her relationship had been resorted to, or she probably just wanted to get out. Or maybe she actually wanted him to find her.

Because he did.

"What do you think you're doing?"

She recognized the familiar grip on her wrist before he even turned her to face him.

"Chuck," Blair remarked in a tone she hoped was surprise.

She knew all along that she had been waiting for him.

"Don't give me that innocent look," Chuck retorted, pulling her through the crowd to a more secluded corner. "What are you doing?"

Blair looked around the club. "You mean besides the obvious?"

"You said we were going to meet up tonight."

"Did I?" Blair asked. "It must have slipped my mind."

"Did it?" Chuck asked, obviously not convinced. "So you just decided to go barhopping instead?"

"What, suddenly you have a problem with me being spontaneous?" Blair asked. "I thought the last thing you wanted was to be bored."

He stared at her and she knew she wasn't making any sense and as usual, she had obviously overreacted.

"Bored," he finally stated. "What would give you that impression?"

It was what made him so frustrating. With Nate it had been so easy to tell when things were waning. Chuck was a different story. Chuck was Chuck. Chuck never gave her a clue about anything.

"Do you think I'm blind?" Blair asked. "I saw you this morning. You've completely tired of me."

"What are you talking about?" he asked succinctly.

"We haven't even had sex today," she told him. "That's the first in a month. Just face it, Chuck. Our relationship is dead."

He was still staring at her incredulously, though it was starting to bother her that he wasn't jumping to defend himself.

"Are you high?"

That was better. In a way.

"No."

"You think that because we were awake for ten minutes and haven't slept together that our relationship is dead," he reiterated, confusion still evident in his voice.

"Well isn't it?"

"Blair," Chuck said, taking her hands in his. "I will never let us die. Ever. Do you understand that?"

"You were ignoring me this morning," she pointed out.

"You were on the phone," Chuck said. "Last time I checked, Serena instated a rule that you couldn't answer her calls while we are otherwise engaged."

"I know the signs, Chuck," Blair said. "We've been talking less. You barely even look at me. This has happened before."

"And then you went and slept with you boyfriend's best friend," Chuck answered. "You think I don't know that? If I was Nate I would have just called, if I had even remembered that you were supposed to come over."

"Then why are you here?" Blair asked. "Don't tell me it's because you're afraid I'm going to sleep with someone else."

His eyes were dark and unwavering, and suddenly her heart wanted to break. He was looking at her so imploringly that she reached for his tie, pulling him even farther into the corner before she was relieved with his reciprocating actions.

"I would never do that to you," she said breathlessly between kisses.

"You did it to Nate."

"Nate and I broke up."

"Twenty minutes before."

"That was different."

"Why?"

"Because," Blair said. "It was with you."

Chuck paused. But it was only for a second because he was suddenly fumbling with her clothing, obviously unaware that they were in a very public forum.

"Besides," she answered his nonverbal affection. "It's not like I can sleep with your best friend. You barely have any to begin with."

He obviously had not found this amusing because he was suddenly hiking up her skirt.

"Chuck," she chastised. "Not here."

"Afraid to be seen with me?" he prodded.

"I'm afraid that the entirety of Manhattan will see something," she retaliated. She watched Chuck survey the club and she knew he was warring with himself on whether it was worth having her right then and there to prove something, but also having his girlfriend on display.

He opted for the alley.

"I would only ever do this with you," she warned him as she felt the cold brick against her back.

"Please," Chuck snorted. "I know you, though no one else seems to. In that prim society outfit all day, you've been dying to get dirty with me in an alley."

This time she let her skirt be torn apart and as their bodies ground together she knew that if this was dying, she would take whatever he would give.


	3. Reversals of Fortune Part III

**A/N:** Not a lot happens with Chuck and Blair but there is jealous Chuck so I hope you enjoy that. Warning if you've never seen the movie Jules _and Jim_, there are major spoilers in here. I haven't seen it either, but I looked it up on Wikipedia and used some facts. If anyone of you have read my "Four Reasons," it's also a Chuck POV of that. You've been warned, there's a Vanessa POV but it's okay because Chair still reigns supreme. Also, the last two vignettes are connected so view them like that. The second vignette may seem really familiar but I just love the CB jealousy. Just a random thing I noticed: twice have Blair and Chuck been referred to with the phrase "murder-suicide."

**Summary**: "Anyone could come out here and hear you screaming my name," Chuck said. "Anyone could hear how much I make you moan.""Just as long as your sluts know it's my claw marks down your back."

**Disclaimer**: Nothing is mine, thank the genius writers who produce the best dialogue on GG. Thanks to Wikipedia for the spoilers about _Jules and Jim_. Thanks a lot to my awesomely awesome beta **comewhatmay.x**.

_**

* * *

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_**Jules and Jim**_

_If you don't mind me saying so—well, I know Blair pretty well._

_Look, I would so like to retire any mention of the _Jules and Jim _thing._

It wasn't his idea to watch the movie.

He remembered a time when Nathaniel would cry and whine about watching the same movies over and over, but then again, Chuck understood Blair's pension for those Old Hollywood movies. It was the reason why he went along with Blair's contempt for _Charade_, though he knew she really liked it. In a former life, he really did like _Jules and Jim_.

Then again, that was before.

"I know what you're thinking."

Lying across the bed, Chuck looked down at the petite frame in his arms. Her eyes were still trained determinedly on the television, but he knew she was talking to him.

"Do you?"

He decided that the coy act—the one that worked so well for Blair Waldorf—could possibly work for him as well.

"Don't even try it, Bass."

Or so he thought.

"Try what?"

"Being coy doesn't suit you."

At that, he just had to laugh. But only because she was so perfect and knowing in his arms. When he looked back at the television, he felt himself grow cold with wariness again.

Blair sat up in bed, untangling herself from his embrace to pause the movie.

"What?" Chuck had asked in annoyance.

"If you don't want to watch this, you don't have to," Blair said. "I wasted so much time on someone who just said what I wanted to hear."

"Do I seem like that?" Chuck asked doubtfully. "I like the movie."

"Sure," Blair shrugged. "You just hate the plotline."

There really was no argument for that. He sighed.

"This whole situation could have been avoided if they weren't so dramatic," Chuck gestured in frustration at the screen.

"What situation?" Blair blinked her eyelashes at him innocently, lying on her side, her face cradled in her palm.

"Don't try it, Waldorf," Chuck replied. "You know what I mean."

"Enlighten me," she said prettily.

"If she wasn't such a tease she wouldn't have two guys fighting over her," Chuck indulged her.

"She wouldn't?" Blair asked. "Maybe she had an epiphany."

"That the first guy was boring?" Chuck asked coolly.

"That the second guy was her soulmate," Blair responded. She watched Chuck stare at her blankly and she knew that this was starting to seem like a no-win situation. She rolled her eyes and pressed play. "It's almost over anyway. Just tough it up for the last two minutes."

"It's not the ending I have a problem with," Chuck muttered but she let him put his arms around her again and he felt sane.

"Nate always used to hate the ending."

She knew that was the wrong thing to say. Chuck's body stiffened and she knew there was no time like the present.

"Speaking of Nate," Blair said awkwardly, "doesn't he come home today?"

"Perhaps."

Blair couldn't see Chuck's face, but she knew his insecurities ran deep. She supposed it was a curse of the brunettes to be forever jealous of the blondes.

"Why do you ask?"

His curiosity always got the better of him. Chuck always had to know everything. Just like her.

"No reason."

"Then why did you ask?"

Blair groaned at him, relieved that the credits were finally rolling. She snapped off the movie, turning around to meet his hard face.

"Nate asked me to meet him for lunch."

"Why?"

As far as reactions went, his was going better than she had predicted.

"He wanted to talk."

"So you're going."

"Why wouldn't I?" Blair asked.

"Because he's your ex-boyfriend," Chuck finally said.

"So?" Blair asked. "You're always in the same restaurant with your conquests."

"That's because there are too many of them to weed out," Chuck responded. "And it's not like I talk to them anyway."

"You never talked to them to begin with," Blair retorted. "What did you expect to happen when he got back, Chuck?"

"I expected that you wouldn't pant after him like a desperate society princess, who's just lusting after his family's ring."

"He's your best friend," Blair said. "Isn't it better when we're all not fighting?"

"No."

"Why not?" she protested.

"Because at least when Nate was mad at me for having my way with you in the back of my limo I knew he wasn't going to fall in love with you."

"You think that's going to happen now?" Blair asked in disbelief.

"Well if lighting strikes twice it can strike a third time."

"Are you ever going to get over this?" Blair asked rhetorically. "Yes, I dated Nate again, but only because you had been right the entire time. It was easy. And just because I said he loved me didn't mean I felt the same way."

"He told you he loved you?" Chuck scowled.

"Chuck," Blair said. "I _dumped_ _him_ at _prom_. How clearer do you want me to make my feelings?"

"It matters, Blair," Chuck said. "You might think it doesn't, but it matters."

"And how do you think I feel?" Blair asked. "Seeing all of those girls you've been sleeping with since you were twelve."

"I was never in love with them," Chuck defended.

"And I never loved Nate," Blair said. "Not like this. And you know it. You _know_ you have this over on him."

"Define 'this.'"

Blair stared at him for a moment, silently hating him and loving him for his arrogance.

"Are you forbidding me from going?" Blair asked dangerously.

Chuck stopped immediately. He knew that was a rocky slope. To his recollection, Nate had never come close to being a controlling freak.

Chuck wasn't Nate. He had obsessive tendencies; such as sending a private investigator after the boyfriend of the girl he loved. Blair was completely aware of this, which gave her power over him. But he couldn't help it. He had never been in love before and knew he never would be again. She was his. And he saw Nate as a threat.

"Chuck," Blair said softly. "You have to let this thing go. Nate is my past. And it's because of him that I found you. So technically, you should be thanking him."

"I'm not doing that."

"What do you want from me?" Blair smiled.

"A murder-suicide."

Chuck's face was completely without humor and in actuality, she knew. She knew that he was completely serious. He wasn't being insane or dramatic. She could say that because she knew what he meant.

"Catherine drove Jim off a cliff in her car because she couldn't stand to see him with anyone else," Blair said. "You think I don't understand that?"

"I think any sane person wouldn't," Chuck answered. "You make me insane, Blair Waldorf."

"Good," Blair answered. "Because if you ever left me for someone else I would drive you off the edge of a cliff too."

"That doesn't surprise me," Chuck answered. "Considering that you don't even know how to drive."

"Neither do you," she pointed out. "That's what drivers are for."

"So you don't have to focus on the road while we're having sex?" Blair asked dryly.

She knew that might have been the wrong thing to say because she arrived to lunch half an hour late, pulling her skirt over her thighs, and wiping at her smudged lipstick.

**Monogamous**

_Open relationships only invite chaos. Trust me, I know._

_It's not an open relationship. We're completely monogamous._

"I'm sure it's nothing."

Hearing the doubt in his own voice, Eric van der Woodsen knew that he would convince no one, least of all Blair Waldorf.

It had been one week, three days, and seventeen hours since Eric had received the Gossip Girl blast that had announced that forever feuding lovers Chuck and Blair had finally given into their primal desires. (There was a running clock on the blog.)

But right now, Eric couldn't help but think the clock was about to come to a sudden halt. Blair was pressing her lips against an unwonted glass of scotch and Eric knew it was only because she didn't want to believe what she was seeing.

"It's even worse in person."

Eric watched in awe as Blair knocked back the glass of scotch, slamming it on the table. In the midst of a Hamptons party, no one noticed that the Queen B was utterly humiliated, distraught, and falling apart.

She thrust her phone into Eric's hands, combing her fingers through her usually impeccable hair.

"I don't know how I could have been so stupid."

Eric looked down on the picture on Blair's phone. It matched the exact scene that was portrayed before them in present time.

Chuck Bass. With a woman that wasn't Blair.

"Blair," Eric said, wanting to defend his brother's honor, but couldn't think of a way to do it. In any other situation, it wouldn't be such a compromising situation. But this was Blair Waldorf. And watching another woman whisper seductively in her boyfriend's ear was a deal-breaker.

"I don't know what I was thinking," Blair said and Eric desperately hoped that she wouldn't cry. "I've been with him for a week and a half and I hadn't even thought about talking to him about exclusivity."

"He said he loved you," Eric said, wanting to believe that Chuck's morals would at least pertain to Blair.

"I should have known that it wasn't enough."

There was a sort of finality to her words and Eric knew that was the end of it as she ordered another scotch. Straight up.

She downed it in one gulp.

"Blair," Eric said warningly. "Maybe you should slow down."

"Why?" Blair asked. "Chuck isn't."

Her smile was cruel and vindictive and Eric was suddenly very, very afraid for his brother. Because he knew that Chuck didn't deserve it. He knew there was an explanation. Because, if anything, Blair Waldorf always found out. And there was no doubt that Chuck had to know retribution thrummed through Blair's blood.

She was smiling and Eric found it very unsettling.

"So you're going to go talk to him like a mature adult?" Eric asked hopefully, but he knew he was simply being an idealist.

"Please," Blair scoffed. "Where would be the fun in that?"

"So we're going to have fun?" Eric asked uncertainly.

"That depends on your idea of fun," Blair smirked before turning her back on Chuck. Eric knew that following her would be a mistake.

It was at that exact moment that Chuck had decided to look up, and complete dread flooded his face.

"Blair."

Chuck practically flung the floozy, who was clinging to him, off as he made his way briskly towards Blair, stopping her.

"Charles."

Eric was surprised that Chuck didn't cringe at her icy tone.

"Whatever you think you saw-" Chuck said in attempt to defend himself.

"What did I see?" Blair asked innocently. His eyes narrowed and Eric took a step back, wanting to avoid the bloodbath. "Do you mean that Gossip Girl post that everyone else did?"

Blair practically flung her phone in Chuck's face.

"Do what you want," Blair sneered. "Don't act like it matters to you what I think."

But instead of doing what any sane man would do and beg for his life, Chuck scowled.

Eric took another step back.

"Have you been drinking?"

"Says the man who has more scotch in his veins than blood," Blair spat.

"Are you drunk?" Chuck asked, humor starting to lace his words.

Eric knew that was a mistake.

"No, I am not drunk," Blair snapped. "But don't for one _second_ think that two can't play at this game."

Chuck stared after her as she whirled around. He couldn't find it in himself to follow her, knowing that only doom was waiting for him.

"My guess is that you weren't cheating on Blair," Eric finally spoke up.

"What?" Chuck snapped, barely even realizing that Eric was there.

"What conclusion did you think she would jump to?" Eric asked. "That girl was practically licking your ear."

"That girl was drunk trash," Chuck sneered.

"All Blair saw was the blast," Eric said. "It doesn't matter to her who the girl was."

"More like what that girl was," Chuck said. "And as an answer to that—I have no idea."

"She is going to eat you alive," Eric couldn't help but laugh.

"She'll find one of her usual ways to punish me," Chuck said, but he didn't sound convinced.

"Are you sure about that?" Eric asked. "Because to the casual observer, it looks like she's keeping her word. That took no time at all."

Chuck followed his brother's gaze and Eric felt the atmosphere grow cold. Blair's laugh traveled over the noise of the party as she put her hand flirtatiously on the arm of her poor victim.

"I would expect nothing less," Chuck said darkly. "Look at him. He doesn't even know the web she's drawn him into."

For a moment, Eric was sure that was admiration that colored Chuck's tone. But then it hit him. Chuck's jaw was clenched and Eric knew he was the second one tonight to be caught in Blair's sticky trap.

Because Blair had suddenly leaned in intimately to the stranger and-

"Scotch," Chuck growled to the bartender. It was gone in a swallow and Eric couldn't help but follow Chuck's pursuit.

"Waldorf."

Blair looked at him through her eyelashes and even though she had met him all of five minutes ago, the distraction stood protectively in front of her for Chuck's benefit.

"Is this guy bothering you?" he asked in Chuck's direction. Blair smiled tauntingly behind the man's back and Chuck's blood boiled. He didn't understand how he could love someone so fervently and want to strangle them at the same time. But it was always that way with Blair Waldorf.

"You mean am I bothering my own _girlfriend_?" Chuck asked threateningly. "I don't think so."

"Girlfriend?" Blair asked in mock confusion, sidestepping the guy she hadn't even bothered to get a name out of. "I didn't know I was your girlfriend. I thought we were just screwing."

Chuck felt the man in front of him react, but it was obvious it was no longer about him. In that crowded Hamptons party, there was only Chuck and Blair.

"Clearly," Blair laughed, "because no self-respecting girlfriend would let her own boyfriend run around with sandy skanks."

"Blair," Chuck said quietly, wishing everyone would just leave, "you are my girlfriend. That girl was just desperate." His hand curled imploringly around her wrist.

"Because everyone just has to have you, right, Bass?" Blair mocked.

She was suddenly shocked into the past with _what else is there_ and _three words eight letters_. He still had that desperate look about him and she was still about to leave him in her dust.

As he deserved.

She didn't care if he told her he loved her. It obviously wasn't enough.

"Don't touch me," Blair snapped, shaking off his hold. "You disgust me."

Completely unaware of the used party-goer, Chuck saw her burst through the French doors that led to the garden.

But only for a second.

He couldn't count the numbers of times Blair Waldorf had caught him by surprise. She was a bitching, passionate, perfect person and he forgot that (of course) he couldn't control and manipulate her.

And he didn't want to.

He forgot that he couldn't predict and calculate her every move, as he was so used to.

That was the reason he followed her. She was his girlfriend and he loved her. Loved her so much that he would forsake all others. And as much as those sounded like wedding vows, the only thing he was concentrating on was making her forgive him and give in to him.

The music and raucous sound of the party became muted as he followed her into the dark, wondering if she even had a set plan of where she was going.

"Stop following me."

"No."

Her breathing had quickened and he knew he would kiss her tears away if he had to. If only she would love him again.

"Go away."

"No."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

She exhaled and, for a moment, he was relieved that she had finally given up on hating him.

But then he remembered that she was Blair Waldorf and Blair Waldorf was never easy.

Unless they were in the back of a limo.

And he knew it was coming.

"I should have known."

"Blair," he said, his voice sounding suspiciously like he was about to beg. But no one was around to hear anyways. It was just the two of them.

"Really," she remarked. "I shouldn't have assumed that we were monogamous. You're Chuck Bass after all."

"And you're Blair Waldorf," he argued.

"What does that even _mean_?" Blair cried out in frustration. "You said you loved me. Great. But we never talked about it. We never talked about if I was your girlfriend or if you were seeing other women. I should have expected it."

"No, you shouldn't have," Chuck said, his anger quickly mounting.

"Why not?" Blair snapped. "You're Chuck Bass. A leopard can't change his spots."

"Is that so?"

Blair felt her heels sink into the ground, rendering her unable to move, even after the dangerous tone his voice had suddenly taken.

"If I recall, you seemed to quite enjoy my spots," Chuck said, walking slowly towards where he was sure her voice was coming from.

"Do I enjoy seeing models throw themselves at you?" Blair asked, bending down hurriedly to unclasp her shoes. She knew she was being overdramatic, but she wanted the option to run if she had to. "No. I can't say that I do."

Chuck stopped, her voice more to the left than it had been moments before.

"Is my kitten getting ready to scamper off?" Chuck taunted in the darkness. Blair cursed herself for speaking but attempted to skirt around him without him knowing.

She knew it was a long shot.

Chuck turned swiftly, catching her by her arms. She squirmed from his grasp, tripping on the cold grass as she did so. She couldn't remember where her shoes were and at the present moment, she was trapped with grass beneath her and a Bass on top of her.

"Get off," Blair said curtly.

"Oh, I will, sweetheart," Chuck promised. "Don't you worry about that."

Blair groaned in disgust, attempting to wriggle out from underneath him.

"I don't think this is garnering the reaction you were going for," Chuck said heatedly into her ear. Sure enough, she was very aware of how much he suddenly needed her and she knew her attempts were futile. "As luck would have it, even if you somehow miraculously escaped me, you still wouldn't be able to find your shoes."

"They would get in the way from me running from you anyway," Blair snapped. His chuckle was dark and she gave an involuntary shiver.

"Aren't you tired of running from me?" he sighed condescendingly. "You're just going to lose."

"Actually the desire to kill you is more potent than my desire to run at the moment," Blair scowled—not that he could see it.

"Are you sure that's not a desire for something else?" he murmured seductively.

"You can't do this," Blair said. "You can't just flirt with some girl and pretend like everything's alright."

"I wasn't flirting," he said. "She was just a girl. I didn't want her. That lacrosse stick you were panting over, however, is something that we have to discuss."

"You deserved it," Blair said snidely. But his weight was becoming too much for her and she found her legs parting to allow his hips to fit against her.

Stupid, traitorous legs.

It didn't go unnoticed by him. Her struggles had stopped, and his hand trailed down her body, to slide his hand up her leg.

"You were trying to make me jealous."

She knew it wasn't a question, but his words were cold and she knew it produced the exact reaction she had calculated.

"That depends," she whispered in her own bedroom voice. "Did it work?"

And just like that, she knew she had him.

"If I ever see you with another man," Chuck warned, "don't for one second forsake my penchant for retribution."

"Against him?" Blair breathed. "Or me?"

Chuck's hands turned angry on her underwear and she muffled a yelp.

"What do you think?"

She was suddenly very aware that she was very close to becoming very naked in a grove on a Hamptons estate.

"I think maybe I should leave," Blair answered.

His hands left her legs, wrapping themselves securely around her wrists before pinning them to the ground.

"Just because I can't see you doesn't mean I can't find you," Chuck said. "I could find you blindfolded. I know that perfume from anymore."

"If you were my man you wouldn't need clues to find me?" Blair asked, hoping he would remember.

"I am your man," he answered gruffly, but he was pressing his hips against her and she turned her head to moan softly. "And you're my girlfriend so there will be no more trying to make me jealous."

"Trying," Blair laughed. His grip grew tighter but it only caused her to sigh again. "Then I don't have to tell you the punishment for infidelity."

"There's only you, lover," Chuck vowed, dipping his head to her neck. "Now open your legs a little wider for me."

As their lips met wildly, she bit down hard and he reacted in pain. He pulled away suddenly.

"That hurt."

"Good," Blair said, her breath suddenly so shallow that she just had to kiss him again. "Now stop talking."

"I'll talk as much as I like," Chuck retorted, unzipping her dress with his teeth because secretly, they both knew she loved the filthy words he whispered to her and only her.

Her fingers fumbled with his zipper, delving into his recesses to make him groan out into the night.

"Are you sure?" Chuck asked. Her breath halted again, unable to help it. "Anyone could walk out here and see us."

"Good."

"Anyone could come out here and hear you screaming my name," Chuck said. "Anyone could hear how much I make you moan."

"Just as long as your sluts know it's my claw marks down your back," Blair answered, inserting her nails into him for good measure.

"Now they do," Chuck groaned.

"Say it."

"I love you."

_"Say it."_

"I'm only yours."

She shoved his pants over his hips and he slid in so deliciously that her back arched off of the cool grass.

"You're buying me another dress if I get grass stains on this."

"As long as I get to choose the lingerie to go with it," Chuck panted, burying his face in her neck as they writhed against each other. "And get to tear it off of you later."

Blair kissed him harshly again, the only sure way to make him stop spouting dirty endearments in her ear.

Not that she minded.

He knew exactly when it happened. She drew her knees up, digging her heels into his lower back as she thrashed.

"Oh, I love you."

He bit her lightly on her shoulder as she shook in response.

"I love you too."

**Murder-Suicide**

_I'm sure Blair and Chuck will be there. If the murder-suicide I predicted hasn't happened yet._

If Vanessa Abrams could epitomize everything that she hated about the Upper East Side, it would be into the one, abhorrent being of Chuck&Blair. They were snide, condescending, smug, and horribly manipulative and corrupt.

That being said, Vanessa could also, on principle, not refrain from calling herself a hypocrite. Because at that very moment, she was standing inside of a Hamptons party that housed the very people she swore to detest.

"What are you doing here?"

Vanessa turned away from another overwhelming display of disgustingly ostentatious wealth to see Eric van der Woodsen. How someone so pure and good could be born out of something to inherently wealthy was something that she could never understand.

"Considering the fact that I can't even see Dan without traveling out of the city to this bottomless pit of corruption, I guess I'm here for a party," Vanessa said, unable to keep the ire from her voice.

"You could have just said you were here to see Dan," Eric said.

"Is he here?" Vanessa asked.

"Considering this is a bottomless pit of corruption," Eric said, "I'm guessing he's not."

"What are you doing here, then?" Vanessa smiled.

"I came with Blair."

"_Blair_?"

"You could at least attempt to keep the disgust from your voice," Eric shrugged. "You hate her, not me."

"Sorry," Vanessa said. "But _Blair_?"

"She needed emotional back-up," Eric said.

"Why?" Vanessa asked. "Did Chuck cheat on her or something?"

Judging from Eric's face, she decided that the mirth in her voice wasn't the smartest thing.

Blair heard everything.

"He didn't," Eric assured her. "But you know Blair."

"I suppose."

"It isn't a party if she doesn't blow something completely out of proportion."

"I will never understand them," Vanessa remarked. "They're so... evil."

"No," Eric said. "They're really not."

Vanessa raised her eyebrows in disbelief and Eric sighed.

"You just don't know them."

"Yeah," Vanessa gave an ugly sneer. "It's so hard to be disgustingly wealthy without any problems at all."

"It's not like that at all," Eric said. "Blair and Chuck do have redeeming qualities. They love each other."

"So why does Blair assume that Chuck's cheating?" Vanessa asked.

"Because Blair has been so emotionally abused for the better part of her life by her mother and her best friend that she's completely paranoid," Eric deadpanned.

"Great," Vanessa said. "Best case scenario, they're a match made in hell."

"They just understand each other," Eric answered. "They're just the same."

Vanessa refused to believe in the sanctity of something as unholy as the alliance of Chuck and Blair but letting this go would be in everyone's best interest.

"I guess I'll just look for Dan somewhere else," Vanessa said, walking towards the French doors that led to the garden.

"I wouldn't go out that way," Eric advised.

"Why?" Vanessa asked, though she still opened the doors.

Then she didn't need Eric to tell her. As Vanessa stepped out onto the deck, the voices were clear.

_"I shouldn't have assumed that we were monogamous. You're Chuck Bass after all."_

Vanessa froze. No matter how much she detested Chuck and Blair, she wasn't one to walk in on private conversations, even if it did give her a great sense of vindicated pleasure.

_"You're Blair Waldorf."_

_"What does that even mean?" _

But at Eric's sigh, Vanessa found herself stopping. His sigh wasn't of sadness, or even similar to her own glee of the situation. It was as though he was bored. Vanessa shot him a look but he just shrugged. As though this was just another Saturday night.

_"You said you loved me."_

Vanessa remembered that sentence. The same sentence she had used when talking to her best friend of thirteen years after seeing him with a glamorous blonde. But she wouldn't pity Blair Waldorf.

_"We never talked about if I was your girlfriend or if you were seeing other women. I should have expected it."_

This time she really was going to turn back inside, but something changed.

_"No, you shouldn't have."_

Chuck's voice was insulted and angry and it wasn't before long before an angry exchange turned into something very different.

"Lovely," Vanessa muttered, as she became very aware that articles of clothing were being removed, moans settling on the night. She turned to Eric. "Did you know this was going to happen?"

There was that sigh again.

"It's not like this is the first time this has happened," he reasoned.

"Hate sex?"

"Make-up sex," he corrected. "Chuck would never admit it to anyone else, but he loves Blair more than he loves himself."

"Are you really going to turn Chuck Bass into a romantic?" Vanessa asked.

"He is," Eric said. "Only around Blair, but he is. Blair freaks out when girls look at Chuck, but that isn't even compared to what he feels. Blair doesn't realize when guys are looking at her. That's the difference."

"I'm supposed to feel sorry for her because she doesn't realize how beautiful she is?" Vanessa snorted.

"No," Eric said. "The point is, if Chuck ever saw Blair really with another guy, he would want to strangle her. But without her, he feels like he's nothing."

"Murder-suicide," Vanessa remarked. "How romantic."

What she didn't say while walked back inside, was that sometimes, she wished it were that easy. She wished it were that easy to look at someone and know that you would be dead without them.


	4. Reversals of Fortune Part IV

**A/N**: The last chapter of this episode and then we can move on to episode 2! I am so relieved that you weren't completely repulsed by Vanessa's little cameo. I just love how the writers refer to Chuck and Blair as a murder-suicide and I couldn't resist. I promise I will attempt to keep the "troll" as most of you like to call her and her appearances to a minimum. Warning, this does have some Dan in it, but it's not in his POV so I hope it's bearable. All I have to say about tonight is: At least Raina left Chuck.

**Summary**: "I may not be you boyfriend," Chuck said, "but I held your hair back today when you drowned your sorrows. I stopped that guy from taking advantage of you, and I'm here. Maybe I'm not your boyfriend, but I know more about you than your actual one ever will."

**Disclaimer**: All quotes belong to GG as well as characters and inspiration for situations. Thanks so much to my beta **comewhatmay.x**.

* * *

**Help**

_Hey, Blair. It's Dan. I know I'm not someone you want to hear from late at night or any hour but I need your help. Call me._

"Don't answer it."

Blair knew that voice. She recognized it. She loved it. It was that gravelly voice coming from the crook of her neck, and she knew that this was the one time she would allow herself to not fight him.

Her hand already wrapped around her phone, Blair quickly looked over Chuck's bare shoulder and grimaced.

"Blair."

It was the one rule. Blair tossed the phone back on the table, giving Chuck her undivided attention.

In the daylight hours, there were parties to be had, events to attend, and it was never easy when obligations were in the forefront. But when they were alone and in the dark, Chuck refused to be ignored. When they were in his bed, she would give him her full, undivided attention.

And if there was one thing she was certain of, it was that never in her life would she ever think of Dan Humphrey while Chuck Bass was groaning obscenities into her ear like that.

Chuck Bass hated being ignored by her.

She assumed that's why he pinned her hands against the headboard like that. As punishments from him went, it was fairly mild.

"I'll be right back."

As much as she hated Dan Humphrey, him calling her was highly unprecedented and she couldn't help but be intrigued. There was only one reason why he would be calling her.

Serena.

She knew she had to call him back.

"Usually you have the courtesy to at least wait until I'm asleep to go and scrub my sin off of you."

Blair turned back to see Chuck with his arms tucked behind his head, gazing at her appreciatively. She knew he didn't truly think she was ashamed of him.

"Well since confessionals don't open until morning, I'll take what I can get," Blair replied coolly before shutting the bathroom door behind her.

But she still felt guilty.

"Why did you call me?"

She heard him stutter on the other line for more than a minute and a half and it was clear he wasn't even expecting her to call him back.

"Humphrey," she said in annoyance, cutting him off.

"_Sorry_," he said. "_Were you busy?_"

"Very," Blair said sneeringly.

"_An image I did not need to be aware of_."

"What do you want?" Blair asked curtly.

"_Please don't tell me you've got something you've got to get back to_," Dan said with dread.

"Not presently," Blair said. "But who knows? He can be very impulsive sometimes."

"_Alright_," Dan said cutting her off.

"There is no real reason why I would ever even consider being of any service to you," Blair said, "so just tell me what you need so I can brush it off."

"_It's Serena_," Dan said. _"She says that Carter Baizen's stalking her."_

Blair leaned her head against the back wall. If there was one thing that she did not want to handle at the moment, it was Serena's many suitors.

"_Blair_?"

"Was it really necessary that you call me?" Blair asked. "The answer is so simple."

_"It is?"_ Dan asked dumbly.

"Just get a restraining order."

"_I think we need Serena to do that_," Dan answered.

"Not for her," Blair rolled her eyes.

_Really_.

"For me."

_"You want Carter Baizen to stay away from you?"_ Dan asked.

"Who doesn't?" Blair reciprocated. "We get one for me and he'll stay away because I'll always be with Serena."

"_Oh_," Dan said. "_Right. Couldn't we just ask Serena to get one?"_

"No," Blair answered succinctly. "Goodbye, Humphrey. It was horrible talking to you."

She ended the call quickly. She wanted to spend the least amount of time talking to him as possible.

Walking out of the bathroom, Chuck's eyes were on her and for a horrifying moment, she felt like she had cheated on him. With Dan Humphrey.

Perish the thought.

"You were in there for a while," he said suspiciously.

"I wasn't," Blair said hastily, fearing that he was thinking she was doing something she had stopped ever since he had come back from Europe, "doing that."

She could tell he was still suspicious but he shrugged.

"I hope you weren't plotting without me."

"Never," she promised, climbing back onto the bed with him.

For some reason, she had the feeling that if Chuck knew she was talking to Dan as casually as she had been, he wouldn't be all too pleased.

**Non-Boyfriend**

_Why won't you leave me alone, Carter? You're not my boyfriend._

_No, but I seem to be the only one you tell your secrets to._

Chuck Bass wasn't used to the irrelevant emotion that plagued most, but for some reason, as he sat outside of Blair Waldorf's bathroom, he couldn't help but allow it to wash over him.

Guilt.

There were many times when he should have felt it, but simply didn't. This was different. He felt it seep into his bones, even though he knew there was no reason for it.

He was in his best friend's girlfriend's bedroom. That was it. He hadn't kissed her. Hadn't touched her. He had only looked at her inappropriately—in a way that everyone was accustomed to. And yet, there was something different about today.

Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't seen Nate in a week, or that he knew Blair was doing something she had promised to stop doing under the guise of running water. But he cared. It wasn't supposed to happen but here he was, sitting on the floor against her bed, just caring.

He had never hated himself more.

At least, not including all those times with Bart—his whole life, essentially.

The doorknob turned and Chuck straightened up, as though he wanted Blair to think he actually wanted to be here.

He was starting to believe it.

Her face fell as she spotted him on his floor.

"Oh," she said dryly. "You're still here."

Chuck got to his feet, a sort of protective instinct kicking in, one that seemed to develop ever since the Magical Serena made her famous disappearing act.

"You could at least put a little more disdain into your tone," he said.

"I don't know if you noticed," Blair said curtly, "but that was pretty much an invitation to leave."

"Why?" Chuck asked. "You want me here."

Blair laughed mirthlessly. "Says who?"

"You," Chuck reminded her. "All night, tonight, if I recall correctly."

"You obviously don't," Blair retorted. "I didn't ask you to follow me home like a lost little puppy."

"If I didn't, then who would?" Chuck asked. "You've got no one else."

He watched her eyes waver and he knew that in his all overpowering personality, he had obviously said something wrong. But he couldn't help it.

"Get out," Blair said hoarsely.

"Sorry, Waldorf," Chuck said, not sounding very sorry at all as he lay back comfortably on her bed. "But I'm staying. Nate would want me to."

"No, he wouldn't."

There was that hollow laugh again and Chuck knew he wasn't going anywhere.

"Nate's gone. Serena's gone," Blair said. "And a matter of hours, my father with have officially stepped out on me. You're going to be next."

"Why would I do that?" Chuck asked. "If you haven't noticed, I haven't exactly been drowning in friends lately either."

"Since when do you have any?"

They had fallen into the familiar pattern of banter and suddenly, Chuck felt oddly comfortable. There had always been this sort of competition between them, but underneath all the ire and disgust, they had sort of become friends.

Blair sat next to him on the bed, pretending it was completely and utterly normal.

Chuck knew it wasn't.

"You don't have to stay with me," Blair said in annoyance.

"Who else is going to?" he asked. This time, he hadn't meant it as an insult.

"No one is forcing you to be here," Blair snapped.

"Maybe I want to be."

"Why?" Blair asked. "You don't care about me. You've only started tolerating me because Nate and I have been together for so long. It's not like you'll even have the chance to nail me, so what's the point?"

"I find you interesting," Chuck answered.

"You mean you find my pain amusing," Blair muttered.

"I don't," Chuck said. He paused for a second, feeling a heaviness in the air that they both knew was coming. "We may not be friends, but we don't exactly hate each other."

"I hate you," Blair pointed out.

"No, you don't," Chuck said. "We're too alike for you to hate me."

Blair was quiet and he knew that she was absorbing this information.

"Maybe I hate myself."

"That I don't doubt," Chuck said. "But it isn't like I'm completely void of self-loathing."

"Please," Blair scoffed. "You are the most arrogant, self-involved bastard I have ever met."

"And you are the most conceited, self-centered bitch I've ever met," he returned.

She was quiet again and he knew she had accepted this statement.

"So I guess we're two of a kind."

"If you didn't torture my best friend so much, maybe we would be close."

"He tortures himself," Blair said. "He puts himself in these situations where there are impossible outcomes and yet he doesn't change things for himself."

"Example," Chuck requested.

"I know he loves her," Blair said. "He did the male equivalent of wallowing when she skipped town. And I know that whenever he's with me, he's thinking of her."

"So why don't you leave him?" Chuck asked. "If you're both so unhappy."

"Because I love him," Blair said hopelessly. "It's his fault that he's unhappy. If he loves her and doesn't love me, the option is simple. I would be sad, but he wouldn't be anymore."

"Maybe Serena doesn't want him," Chuck suggested.

"So he'd rather stay with someone who wants him even if he doesn't want her the same way?" Blair asked. "It doesn't make any sense. He's just as self-deprecating as we are."

Chuck smirked.

"What?"

"You just put both of us in a sentence together."

Blair shook her head but there was a slight smile on her face and it frightened Chuck how much it pleased him.

"Maybe he's practicing for married life," Chuck said.

"Do you really hate commitment that much?" Blair couldn't help but ask. Chuck shrugged.

"I just don't see a point to it," he answered. "Women are boring."

"Thanks," Blair rolled her eyes.

"You," Chuck said, "are not a woman."

Blair stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"You're Blair Waldorf," he said. "You are above the common masses."

"That almost sounded like a compliment," Blair said.

"Maybe it was," Chuck said, marveling to himself at the fact. Blair was picking at the imaginary lint on her skirt and he couldn't help but say it. "Nate doesn't know."

"Know what?" Blair asked innocently.

He _hated_ that. He hated it when she did that. She pretended like everything that wasn't a part of her perfect plans didn't exist. And for some reason, he did want her to get better.

"I don't think it's disgusting, Blair," Chuck said. "I get wanting to lash out at yourself. I might need a new liver by the time I'm twenty-five, myself. I just don't see a reason for you to do it."

"Stop it," Blair said. "Stop pretending that you care."

"Why else would I be here?" Chuck asked.

"To torture me," Blair answered.

"Does my presence torture you?"

"No," Blair said. "But you're right. Everyone is gone. And soon you're just going to leave too."

"You act like you need me."

"No one wants to be alone."

"You don't need to do it."

"Stop it, Chuck," Blair exclaimed, getting off the bed. "Just because you're my boyfriend's best friend doesn't mean you need to take care of me."

"Is that right?" Chuck practically snarled. "Your own boyfriend doesn't know what you do to make yourself perfect, even though by textbook definition, you already are. He probably hasn't even realized that your father is leaving for good and that your mother is punishing you for it. He's selfish and when Serena left, he didn't even _once_ ask you if you were alright."

"You're not my boyfriend," she said quietly. "Stop caring."

"I may not be you boyfriend," Chuck said, "but I held your hair back today when you drowned your sorrows. I stopped that guy from taking advantage of you, and I'm here. Maybe I'm not your boyfriend, but I know more about you than your actual one ever will."

"You're not getting laid tonight."

Her deadpan was so perfect and she was just so _Blair_ that he had to laugh.

"Maybe not by you," he answered. "But maybe someday."

"What makes you so sure?" Blair asked coolly. He leaned back on her bed.

"Because I'm not your boyfriend," he said.

"As opposed to sleeping with my own boyfriend?" Blair asked.

"Like it or not, Waldorf," Chuck said, "you and I have something. Think about that when you realize that I'm the one who will inevitably take your virginity."

At the time, she took it as Chuck intended it—with humor.

At the time.

And then suddenly she found herself shaking and sweating in a familiar limo, wondering where all of that time went.

**Messages**

_I came back from the party because I had a headache. Didn't you get my messages?_

_I must have left my phone on the table._

It was suddenly becoming painfully clear to him what had happened the previous night. Chuck watched Blair excuse herself, and suddenly, she was deep in conversation with Dan Humphrey and Carter Baizen.

Two of the people he hated most in the world.

The fact was, Humphrey had left a message on Chuck's girlfriend's phone while they were in a passionate embrace, and suddenly, he had felt a blinding migraine come on.

Of course, he had only come to this realization while leaving a message on his girlfriend's phone.

Its rattling right next to him told him that something very wrong had just happened. Maybe it had to do with Dan Humphrey's proximity, but he hated it. Dan Humphrey was not worthy. Dan Humphrey didn't try for a year and half to get what he wanted. Dan Humphrey was effortlessly standing next to her, so Chuck did what he usually did.

He violated.

_Hey, Blair. It's Dan. I know I'm not someone you want to hear from late at night or any hour but I need your help. Call me._

As incriminating evidence went, Chuck could deduce that Blair wasn't cheating on him.

This was worse. This wasn't her pushing him away because she saw the real him and was disgusted. She was scheming with someone that wasn't him. She was scheming with someone that was Dan Humphrey. It was the ultimate betrayal.

It was at that moment that Alexandra Richards passed and he had to do what he had to do. Truthfully, Alexandra was too tall for him. She was willowy and blonde and the way she smiled reminded him too much of his own sister.

His headache wasn't going away.

This was a familiar sensation.

It was the same one he felt when he had watched his best friend and his girlfriend making out around the corner of a brick wall. The one he felt when he arrived at the Jitney's stop, roses in hand, his heart in the other as the beautifully tanned Blair Waldorf got off and grabbed a fake college student by the collar. It was the same feeling he had when his best friend offered to move into Murray Hill with his current girlfriend.

It spurred Chuck to action. And he always won.

**Message 1**: _Hi, it's Blair-_

So he didn't actually leave the first message. He was too busy ignoring Alexandra Richards, sort of stalking his girlfriend, and staring as his stepsister rode from the polo match on a horse.

He was neurotic and possessive. It wasn't his fault.

He looked over to the table to see Blair's phone twirling with its vibrations next to her weak julep.

He still called it incessantly.

Because although he knew it was Blair's lipstick smudged on his collar, she was still talking to Dan Humphrey.

For some inexplicable reason, the thought left angry nausea churning in his stomach.


	5. The Freshman

A/N: So, glad I got this out on time. It almost didn't happen. You would have had to wait a whole couple of days. That's right. Terror. Anyway, only one chapter for his episode because, to be onest, not my fave. But that allusions are pretty cool. Be the judges yourselves.

Summary: Serena sank back in her seat, knowing the reality of what was happening. Chuck Bass was heartbroken. He never should have hurt her own best friend like that, but she had seen what had happened after Blair's phone call, promising Chuck a personal castration.

Disclaimer: Quotes and such belong to GG, as per usual. Thanks so much to **comewhatmay.x** who, even though she was totally busy, deigned to awesomely beta my stuff.

* * *

**Absinthe**

_I trust when you say never drink absinthe with Daniel Baldwin, you know what you're talking about._

"We have to go."

Sushi halfway into her mouth, Serena looked over the table to see Blair glaring at her phone. She pocketed it quickly, throwing a hundred onto the table.

"Is everything alright?" Serena asked worriedly.

"We'll see," Blair answered grimly, shouldering her bag.

"Is it Nate?"

Blair paused, and for a moment, Serena wondered if saying his name was against the rules. But Blair's eyebrows were furrowed in confusion.

"No."

It came out like an annoyed question as Blair turned on her heel. Serena followed her dutifully as they entered the waiting limo.

"Where are we going?" Serena asked curiously. Blair tossed her phone to the side before speaking.

"Downtown," she said with the utter most distaste.

At that moment, it was very clear that Serena was missing something. Blair Waldorf never ventured past 14th Street if it wasn't of the most importance.

"Blair-"

"Listen," Blair answered. "You have to understand that after you left, a lot of things changed. You are now lowering yourself by actually considering going on a date with someone from Brooklyn."

"And what are you doing?" Serena asked, dreading the answer. If anything, Blair was now completely unpredictable. And she didn't like those odds.

"Something I wish that I haven't done before."

Now Serena was really worried.

The limo pulled up to the curb of a dive that Serena had never heard of, but she followed Blair out anyway, if only from curiosity alone.

They didn't have to go very far.

Sitting slouched on the curb was Charles Bartholomew Bass.

"Really, Blair?" Serena asked. She knew that her personal preference for the spoiled heir to Bass Industries meant little to nothing to Blair, but she really wasn't in the mood for being uprooted from one of her favorite restaurants to save him.

"I texted you an hour ago."

Chuck apparently had no perception above Blair's shoes and didn't address Serena at all.

"You're lucky I'm picking you up at all," Blair said. "Why do you always call me?"

"Because Arthur has a tendency to tell his actual employer where his son has been and I've had enough of the cold, Bart Bass 'are you done embarrassing me' sort of look."

Still, Blair refused to reach down to help him up as much as he refused to go through the trouble of getting up himself.

"Why don't you stop embarrassing him, then?" Blair asked.

"Because I like you doting on me," he answered, giving her a lewd smirk.

"No, you don't," Blair sighed. "You don't like anyone to see you weak."

"Unfortunately for us both, Waldorf," Chuck sighed, "you have seen more of me this summer than I would like to admit."

Serena couldn't help but gape at the relationship that she had not been privy to as Blair leaned down to finally help Chuck to his feet. He wavered slightly, slinging an arm casually over her shoulders.

Serena moved out of the way as Blair artfully guided Chuck to the limo. She hesitantly followed the dark pair, unaware of how to approach the situation.

She sat across from them, observing them with a sort of morbid fascination, as Chuck tiredly laid his head in Blair's lap. Blair rolled her eyes but didn't make a move to remove him.

"For future reference," Chuck said into Blair's skirt, "never drink absinthe with Daniel Baldwin. He has the most perverse sense of fun. And that's coming from me."

"Thanks for the tip, but I'm sure I can restrain myself," Blair said. "But Serena, here, is the one who has won contests for drinking absinthe at boarding school."

"Why did you insist on bringing your entourage?" Chuck asked in annoyance.

So it wasn't that Chuck was unobservant. He just chose to ignore her.

"She's ruining our date."

And for the first time, Serena heard Blair laugh in the company of others. It was clear that something definitely had occurred while Serena had been away and she wasn't sure if she liked it or not.

"If she weren't here we could be having wild and unrestrained sex right now."

"You wish," Blair said, but still laughed.

Chuck's eyes flicked to Serena's for just a second, but it was in that moment, that she actually became afraid.

Maybe he did.

**Love Her Madly**

_There was a time when Chuck and the Italian ambassador's son were asked to leave an Amsterdam brothel. Now that's an accomplishment._

_Simple misunderstanding. None of us spoke any dutch._

"Guess who called."

Serena Van Der Woodsen was sitting on an East Hampton beach, thinking about which stories to tell about her fake boyfriend when Eric sat down beside her.

"Is it Mom? Because I really don't want to hear how disappointing her sex life with Bart is."

"He's Chuck's dad," Eric laughed. "I'm pretty sure that's not it. Speaking of which..."

Serena finally looked down to see the phone Eric was holding. The timer was running. Serena put it up to her ear, frowning at the background noise she couldn't understand.

"What is that?"

"My guess is Dutch," Eric said. "Last time I checked, Chuck said he was going to Amsterdam."

Serena grimaced. She hated sentences that started like that.

_Last time I checked, Chuck..._

And so on.

Blair used to be so much better at this. Then again, it wasn't like she was going to save him.

"I don't get it," Serena said.

"You know that Chuck will never ask for help," Eric said.

"Is Chuck in trouble?"

"You tell me."

Serena groaned and began gathering her things.

She so did not want to go to Amsterdam right now.

"Can I come?" Eric asked.

"No."

It was one of the reasons why Serena hated her flaky mother. Now she was the one in charge of rescuing an inebriated Chuck from whatever he was doing. And she was so not going to enjoy it.

That being said, it hadn't been that difficult to find him. They were practically advertising the fact that Bart Bass' son and the son of an Italian ambassador were at one of their brothels.

Upon entering the foreign whore-house, a feeling of uneasiness settled over her. Though she had been caught in places worse than this, that life was behind her. Then again, it was easy to find Chuck.

He was in the middle of a public tussle with another man that Serena didn't recognize, being berated by a woman of questionable distinction.

It didn't escape Serena's attention that she was brunette.

"Chuck," Serena yelled over the noise, as Chuck was in the middle of explaining he didn't have a clue what anyone was saying and if he did, he would know what that hooker didn't like.

Chuck looked over and Serena could tell immediately that he had probably passed inebriated yesterday.

"That hooker looks strikingly like my stepsister," Chuck announced to his cohort.

"Chuck," Serena said louder in anger.

"She sounds like her too."

Without waiting, Serena took Chuck by his shirt, dragging him out of the establishment.

"It's been awhile, sis," Chuck grinned, taking a joint of some sort out of his jacket. Serena slapped it out of his hand.

"Ow," Chuck replied. "That was quality."

"I don't care," Serena said. "I didn't want to come to a foreign country just to rescue you."

"Who said I needed it?" Chuck asked.

"You called Eric," Serena pointed out.

"I thought he would enjoy the privileges of the hash bars," Chuck said innocently.

"What did you do to cause that anyway?" Serena asked in disbelief.

"I don't know," Chuck shrugged. "I don't speak Dutch."

"What are you even doing here?"

"Catching up with friends," Chuck said, motioning towards the man that had been standing with them. "This is the Italian ambassador's son-"

"I don't care," Serena broke in. "We're going home."

"Alright. Have fun, you two," he answered, addressing Serena and they man whose name she didn't care to catch.

"I meant you and me, Chuck," Serena said, pulling at Chuck's collar. "Do you know what Mom will do to me if you end up gutted by a Dutch pimp?"

"Careful with the imagery," Chuck sneered, but allowed Serena to steer him to the car. "I'm delicate."

"You're delicate," Serena laughed coldly. "What do you think you're even doing here?"

"Sightseeing?" Chuck guessed.

"Really," Serena said. "And it wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that a certain brunette that we both happen to know was rumored to be last spotted in Amsterdam?"

"I don't talk to Gina anymore," Chuck said. "She got too clingy."

"She was never here, Chuck," Serena said. "And even if she was, it's not like it would help anything."

"You're right," Chuck sighed. "Gina never wants to try anything new."

"Chuck," Serena snapped. "You abandoned Blair at a heliport. Did you think she'd just come crawling back to you with open arms?"

Chuck glared at the seat in front of them, trying his best to ignore the truths that Serena spat at him.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Chuck said slowly.

"You don't?" Serena asked. "Then why did that prostitute claim you were taking too many liberties? And that she just happened to be the one that looks the most like Blair?"

"How do you know what she said?" Chuck sneered. "Last I checked you're only uni-lingual."

"Do you think that Blair wants this?" Serena asked. "After hearing about your escapades all over South America, she has to read about you getting thrown out of a brothel. Nate told me what you said to him at the wedding. Don't you love her?"

Chuck finally looked at her somberly, and for a minute, she thought she was getting through to him.

But it was only a minute.

"Don't you love her as she's walking out the door," Chuck said darkly. "Like she did one thousand times before."

"Chuck," Serena pushed him away. "I'm not in the mood to hear you quote Jim Morrison, though I have to admit, you're doing well at a downward spiral just like him."

It was stupid of her to think that a drunk Chuck would even think of stopping something that irked her. He knew how furious she was at him for doing what he did and the only thing he could think of doing was making the situation worse.

"_Don't you love her ways_," Chuck started singing with a knowing sneer. "_Tell me what you say. Don't you love her as she's walking out the door.._."

Serena sank back in her seat, knowing the reality of what was happening. Chuck Bass was heartbroken. He never should have hurt her own best friend like that, but she had seen what had happened after Blair's phone call, promising Chuck a personal castration.

Chuck was mourning through women that had dark hair and now he had consumed so much alcohol that he would just continue to drunkenly serenade a woman who wasn't even there with music by The Doors.

Serena watched Chuck lean back into his own seat, whispering words that Blair would never hear to himself.

"Don't you love her madly. Don't you need her badly..."

And she knew that Chuck was asking himself that exact thing that Serena had been asking him all summer.

Why did he leave her?

**Same Woman**

_I'm sorry if you sense any tension, these two don't like each other that much because they share the same taste in women. Sometimes, they share the actual women._

_That's enough._

Chuck couldn't remember a time when he didn't hate Carter Baizen. But from their first meeting, he was sure they were meant to be enemies. However, it was only after several run-ins with the fellow lecher did Chuck realize something.

He not only hated Carter Baizen.

He had every right to kill him.

It was the way she was sitting, he decided. Dressed in her best lingerie, she held a glass of scotch, tracing it with her finger, and Chuck couldn't help but allow himself to believe that was the moment. He could get on his knees for her, present her with his gift from Tiffany's and she would be so relieved to have him in her life again.

It was the lingerie, he decided. Sometimes, that woman just wasn't fair.

This became blatantly clear to him as Carter Baizen walked in from the other room, buttoning up his shirt. That was the moment.

He had no choice but to kill him.

"What are you doing with this insect?"

"Having the time of my life, thank you."

He knew that condescending and sneering voice, and he hated how much he loved it. This cockroach was between the thighs of the woman that belonged to him. And just because his initials were C.B. and he gallivanted around Singapore and Dubai, that gave her no reason to give him the courtesy that she had so sweetly given Chuck in the back of his limo.

She had given him her innocence and it sickened him that this was so full of spite.

Blair was precious and as much as Carter Baizen seemed to emulate him, that man could never understand the full complexity and perfection of her. After all, he had fallen in love with Serena van der Woodsen. Chuck got off easy by unwittingly and involuntarily falling for the cunning, manipulating, sneering better half.

"Dubai again."

For a moment, Chuck was vindicated by the fact that Carter never really wanted her. He only did it to antagonize Chuck. It was a bittersweet victory that Blair seemed so connected to him that Carter could use it against him.

But Carter still got to be in her bed while Chuck was out in the cold, chasing after her quarter life crisis.

Carter couldn't be bothered with the fact that Serena could pull his strings as easily as Blair could pull Chuck's.

Chuck stopped him at the elevator anyway.

"Where is she?" Chuck said lowly, never unwilling for Serena—or anyone else—to hear how desperate he was for this information.

"She really got you," Carter breathed. "Didn't she?"

"Answer the question," Chuck said coldly. "I grow weary of your constant avoidance."

"You know what, Bass?" Carter asked. "I did do this to mess with you. And she made it so easy. Because that's what she was."

It took all of Chuck's physical restraint not to make the first move of violence he had ever pertained to. Carter's cold eyes flicked to Chuck's twitching jaw muscle.

"God," Carter laughed. "You really love her. Don't you?"

"Just tell me."

"It must kill you," Carter said, "that right after the gentleman's club debacle, the next woman you give your heart to just rips it right out."

"It was always Blair," Chuck answered, hating every minute of the weakness that he was displaying to Baizen. "Now tell me where she is."

"It must kill you," Carter continued, apparently not hearing a word Chuck had said, "how it was my name she was moaning. That it was me in her bed and not you."

"Maybe," Chuck said. "But like you said, Blair does know how to cut loose."

"Yeah?" Carter asked.

"Where exactly did you think she learned that...technique?" Chuck asked silkily. "It sure as hell wasn't Nate Archibald."

"But do you think you can really forgive her for letting an _insect_ like me in?" Carter taunted.

"It wouldn't be the worst thing she's done to me."

"That's right," Carter said. "I remember how she humiliated you at your own Cotillion. And then slept with your best friend."

"For a time, maybe," Chuck laughed coldly. "But what do you have? You pathetically pine after a girl that everyone on the Upper East Side has bedded. But at least Blair stayed through the night and didn't ditch me in a foreign country."

"No," Carter said. "You ditched her when she was on her way to one."

"Blair loves me," Chuck said. "And that's something that you can't possibly understand."

"What makes you say that?"

"Are you sure it was your name she was moaning last night?" Chuck taunted. With impeccable timing, the doors slid open. "Oh look. You're ride's here."

Carter's eyes were icy and cold, and for the first time, Chuck felt confident. Because he knew exactly who Blair had been thinking of the entire time.


	6. The Lost Boy Part I

**A/N**: Sorry this took longer than anticipated to get out. It's not my fault I'm overloading my beta with random Chairness. Anyway, this only has two vignettes, but that's because this is going to be one of those longer episodes. Lost Boy had a lot of good quotes in it, so there will be many more chapters to come.

**Summary**: His voice had resorted to that growl and he belatedly realized how tightly he was gripping her arms and how hard he was forcing her against the wall. His breathing had quickened and he hated this weakness in him. He hated showing her what she did to him.

**Disclaimer**: Quotes belong to GG and thanks so much to **comewhatmay.x **who accepts the workload I force on her.

* * *

**0 to Crazy**

_If Georgina likes somebody she will go from 0 to crazy before you know it._

Chuck always liked to brag about how he had bagged Georgina Sparks his first time. Though it wasn't exactly difficult to get her into bed, it stoked his twelve-year-old ego to know that—like his father who could get models half his age—Chuck Bass was well on his way.

That being said, no one really knew what happened that night. Chuck spun tales about how he was a natural-born Casanova and Whore-gina had practically begged him to get her off.

However, that couldn't be farther from the truth. He hadn't exactly begged her, but it happened the way Chuck usually liked to dictate his business.

Drunk.

Swaggering into the party—as much as someone in middle school could swagger—and tipsy off of the Captain's single malt, it was over before he knew what had happened. Georgina crawled off of him and he wasn't really sure what had happened or why she was pulling her jeans back on.

He looked down to see his own designer pants were halfway down his hips. Chuck struggled to get up before he realized that he wasn't quite as alone as he had thought.

Georgina's eyes were cold, disconcerting, and Chuck had to admit, as proud of himself as he was for losing his virginity before those his age had even discovered anatomy, he was a little disgusted. Not of himself, of course, but the way Georgina was staring at him prompted a strong urge to never see her again in his life.

Bart would be proud.

And really, that was how it started. He could tell from the wide blue eyes of an airy blonde that Georgina spared no detail when it came to their very short time together.

"She's your friend," Chuck reminded Serena before she could even open her mouth.

"So?" Serena asked. "Blair's my friend but I don't want her to be defiled by you."

"Why?" Chuck asked. "What are they saying about me?"

His smirk was self-important and he reveled in Serena's disgust. Because if _Serena_ was disgusted, he knew he was doing something right. But Serena was just smiling and shaking her head and he was getting the strange and disconcerting feeling that she knew more than she was letting on.

"What?" Chuck asked. "It's not like I'm actually going to go after your prudish best friend. She seems like the clingy type."

"You'll wish you had it so good your first time was with Blair," Serena laughed.

"I highly doubt that," Chuck said snidely. With a simple flip of voluminous hair, Serena was on her way with two parting words.

"You will."

It went like this: one day he was just sitting with some freshman at Constance's Upper School.

And then he wasn't anymore.

The girl two years his senior was screaming about her ruined dress while Georgina Sparks stood victorious, an empty cocktail glass that Chuck suspected was filled with lighter fluid before it was emptied.

"What are you doing?" Chuck sighed with boredom. He really wasn't in the mood to deal with hormonal bitches of his past.

"You never called me."

Chuck couldn't help but stare. Here was Georgina Sparks, self-proclaimed concubine of the Upper East Side, spilling drinks all over girls like some sort of jealous girlfriend.

"Are you being serious right now?" Chuck asked incredulously.

"We slept together."

"You'll sleep with a cater waiter if he's got sixty seconds," Chuck replied.

"I thought we had a connection," Georgina answered. "You did give your virginity to me."

"To be fair," Chuck answered, "if Blair Waldorf offered to give me her indecency for one minute, I would have taken it."

"Blair Waldorf," Georgina sneered. Chuck didn't even feel the need to hide his smirk. He knew everyone's insecurities and Georgina's belonged to Blair Waldorf. Blair spent her time trying to gain the attention that her best friend garnered and in an ironic twist, it was Blair's best friend's good friend who found herself in the prim society princess's shadow. "She's dating your best friend."

"So I've heard."

"_Blair Waldorf,_" Georgina almost shrieked. It was at the moment that Chuck reprimanded himself for not realizing this sooner. Georgina had just accosted a stranger and was jealous of an uptight bitch that Chuck would sleep with when hell froze over.

It was becoming very clear how very unstable Georgina Sparks was. After all, she took Chuck Bass' virginity.

Chuck took a step back.

"Georgina," he said as succinctly as he could. "We slept together. It was a good time. But that's it."

"And where would you be without me?" Georgina spat. "Still trying to live up to the shadow of your golden best friend."

"Is that any better than you?" he asked, though unsure what Georgina was trying to imply. "You can't even live up to a virginal society queen in the making."

"You and I are the dregs of this society," Georgina said. "You might as well just accept it."

It was the first time it had ever happened. He was used to his father's neglect and constant criticism, and even though Nate was always the one gloried in and admired, Chuck had a friend, but Serena only went to hers for someone to drink with. And even though Blair was snappish and condescending, she never tried to make Chuck into something he wasn't. This was the first time Chuck had ever thought himself of something other than a complete screw-up.

"No," Chuck said. "I'm better than you. I'm a womanizer. You're just a whore."

In retrospect, he was sure he went a little too far with that one.

"What happened to you?"

Chuck turned to face Blair's cold voice, and truth be told, he had never been more relieved to see her in his life.

He just had a revelation.

"Georgina Sparks is a psychotic bitch," Chuck answered, turning back to the mirror. Scratch marks from manicured nails still lined the side of his face.

Blair's laugh was light and airy and it was the first time (that he could recall) that she hadn't been completely irritating. Looking back on it, Blair really wasn't that repugnant. She was hotter than most that went to their school and had an admirable scheming quality to her.

"That's right. I heard about your little dalliance."

He just hated her control over Nate.

In fact...

"I need your help."

"Excuse me?"

She was snide as usual, but genuinely perplexed.

"Never would I expect to hear Chuck Bass utter those words."

"Don't get used to it," he retorted. "But helping me helps you."

"And how do you figure that?" Blair asked coolly. He had to admit, that woman kept her head, even when she was caught off guard.

"How do you feel about Georgina Sparks?"

"Obviously not as satisfied as you do," Blair said icily.

"Think again, princess," Chuck sighed. "You do see what she resorted my face to."

"Of course," Blair replied dryly. "Your exotically good-looking face."

"I have women crawling to my feet," Chuck said. "Before you know it, you'll be panting just like the rest of them."

"Don't hold your breath," Blair rolled her eyes and that was why he liked her. Of course he hated her horrible influence and suffocating presence, but if she ever released her death-grip on Nathaniel, he could really see them as friends. She didn't treat him like the rest of the female population did. She didn't push him away or stalk him like a complete psycho. Her teasing manner was almost that of a friend.

But not quite.

"Blair Waldorf," Chuck said quite seriously. "You are a beautiful person."

"What are you saying?" Blair asked suspiciously.

"I'm saying that there is only room for one of you on the Upper East Side," Chuck answered. "And you're the crazy bitch around here."

He liked the way she smirked.

**Brandy Library**

_We met at Brandy Library last month. You have no idea who I am, do you?_

_No. But probably because I wasn't at Brandy Library last month._

_Oh, okay. So I guess I had sex with another Carter Baizen who drinks his single malt with one ice cube and claimed to be leaving with the Peace Corps the next day._

_Sounds like a charming fellow._

She was the exact sort of woman Carter Baizen would sleep with. Blonde, skinny, and completely vapid.

To be honest, sitting at a bar with the familiar feeling of a woman gazing upon him with desire, he knew it would have been in his best interest not to keep his schemes away from his highly irrational and neurotic girlfriend.

But he didn't.

"Buy you a drink?" he smirked.

The girl looked flattered that he was even talking to her, but he knew that there was no real reason that he had chosen her. She had just been sitting there and he knew his campaign to destroy Carter Baizen had just come into full effect.

"And you are?" she asked.

"Carter Baizen," he answered. The name felt wrong in his mouth, but then again, he had always been an eye for an eye type of person.

And he deserved retribution.

Apparently, Blair didn't seem to see how chivalrous he was being for her.

The girl's eyes narrowed and Chuck knew she was expecting a different answer. She must have been one of those who read tabloids. But she was smiling at him coyly and he knew he was doing something right as he turned to the bar.

"Scotch with one ice cube. And for the lady?" Chuck asked the woman, whose name he didn't care to even ask for.

"How about I serve the lady up a nice Nairtini?"

The voice had come from behind Chuck and he knew that turning around would only confirm that his death would be imminent.

"A what?"

At the girl's tone, Chuck had to wonder if she was even capable of the work that he required. But that thought evaporated from his mind just as quickly as Blair stood before him, her hand on her hips. It was a wonder he could even shut down the thoughts of how amazing she looked, but her anger was much more prominent.

"I hope you have an appointment for the hair salon, because you'll be needing it," Blair said coldly.

"Blair," Chuck said, knowing that this could get out of hand in an instant.

"Carter, what is she talking about?"

For a moment, Chuck relished in Blair's stunned silence, knowing that he would have to explain himself in the very near future.

"She's cute." To be honest, it wasn't the exact reaction he was expecting from Blair, even if her words were laced with venom. "Carter."

"What can I say?" Chuck asked, leaning back against the bar, all too willing to play her game. "I know how to pick them."

"Do you know how to watch them walk away?" Blair asked. True to her words, she had spun on her heel and he was helpless to do nothing but watch her leave.

And then he remembered he was Chuck Bass.

"Hey."

The elbow he was trying to catch slid easily from his grip as she disappeared through the patrons of the lounge.

"That's your idea of a loophole?"

Her eyes were daring and betrayed, and he was suddenly very confused.

"What?"

"Since that girl thinks your Carter Baizen it's technically not cheating?" Blair spat. "Well I have to admire your determination in this failed attempt at rebellion. But if all you wanted to do was sleep around, you certainly don't have to be attached to me to do it."

Chuck gazed at her in horror. This wasn't just another one of Blair's sudden and very ugly bouts of jealousy that weren't even based in reality. As far he could tell, she was trying to end things.

Like he was going to let that happen.

Again, he felt a paralyzed victim to Blair's scathing glare. But he had a weapon of his own.

His sneer was cold and calculating and somehow Blair found herself allowing him to wrap his hands around her. He backed her into a secluded corner, doing anything but defending himself.

Or speaking at all.

He kissed her hairline gently and intimately. "Try not to overreact."

"Overreact?" Blair snapped, pushing him away.

"I can't deny that I was pretending to be that insect," Chuck says. "But the very fact that you would think I would take his identity willingly to rid myself of you is rather insulting."

"You're actually suggesting that it was against your will that you're pretending to be Carter?" Blair laughed coldly. "Did she put a gun to your head?"

"Actually I was in the middle of something," Chuck said, hating the way it sounded on his tongue, but really unsure of how Blair would react. He could never be sure anymore. He was too close to her and now he wasn't confounded as to how Nate had been so confused about her all this time. As a detached observer, Chuck could read her like no one else. Now he was just another common, insecure, jealous boyfriend.

He didn't like how it looked on him.

"More like in the middle of someone," Blair recalled. "If you're so focused on faking Carter Baizen, maybe I should go to the real one. At least he noticed I was there."

And jealousy reared its ugly head again.

"You won't."

His voice had resorted to that growl and he belatedly realized how tightly he was gripping her arms and how hard he was forcing her against the wall. His breathing had quickened and he hated this weakness in him. He hated showing her what she did to him. It was emasculating.

"I need to destroy Carter," Chuck said. "After everything he's done to me, I need to ruin him."

"Everything he's done to you?" Blair questioned, but for some reason, she didn't seem as vengeful as she had moments ago.

"Please," Chuck said. "Humiliating me, besting me at every turn, and now this whole Serena thing. He needs to be dealt with."

"How exactly has he humiliated you?"

"With you," Chuck said before he could stop himself.

"What are you doing, Bass?" Blair whispered and he knew that somehow, something had changed.

"I don't know," Chuck said, frustrated with himself.

"Do you want to figure it out?" Blair asked. "Or maybe I really will go call Carter."

She smirked at his tightening grip and he suddenly knew what she was doing. She let him kiss her roughly, relieved at her apparent forgiveness.

"Now what exactly was your plan?" Blair asked.

"Break her heart as Carter Baizen," Chuck said. "Ruthlessly and mercilessly."

"That's what I like to hear," she said lowly, making him press her up against the wall again until she moaned. "I'm assuming while remaining faithful to me."

"I was still working out the kinks to the plan," he had to admit.

"And you thought you'd insult me by ignoring my obvious talent for scheming?" Blair asked.

"I wanted to keep you as far away from him as possible," Chuck said, starting to find Blair's weakness.

He was starting to realize she liked it when he told her how he felt.

How strange.

"I have an idea," Blair smiled slowly.

"After you stop teasing me."

An insurmountable amount of time later, Chuck found himself by Blair's side back in the lounge. Remarkably, the woman who was still a part of the scheme was still sitting at the bar.

"We have a proposition for you," Blair said.

Chuck slid a hundred dollar bill before her.


	7. The Lost Boy Part II

**A/N**: I'm a little concerned about my portrayal of Blair during pre-series and after V/V because I have been burned in the past. Just remember that I have a creative license and this is just for fun.

**Summary**: He should have known all along. The second she took the stage, he should have realized that his best friend's very recent ex was actually a sex kitten in disguise.

**Disclaimer**: Quotes belong to GG and the awesome corrections belong to **comewhatmay.x.**

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**Distraction**

_I can't believe you lied to me. Trying to use sex to distract me._

_I learned from the best._

He should have known all along. The second she took the stage, he should have realized that his best friend's very recent ex was actually a sex kitten in disguise.

Unfortunately for him, he was already sheathed all the way in her upon this realization. He was already infected with her seduction and as soon as he pulled away, she had flounced off.

It was the first time he had ever found himself lusting after something he had just finished with, and by the time he found her the next day, to see her strutting out of a catholic church, the feeling had increased tenfold. This entire time, he should have realized.

She had just been a virgin in disguise. Because not only did she already know every trick in the book to make him the boyish weak shell of a formidable man he used to pride himself in being, but she taught him something.

Something that he could never stop himself from falling for.

By that time, he had completely lost track of how many times Blair had let him cave to his physical need for her. At that point, all he could call it was need because he had officially no control over what he did to her. He would see her and lose all control. By the third time, he was done.

They both were. By the third time, she was no longer pretending to fight him.

That was what it came down to that night.

He knew the moment that Blair Waldorf walked into the gala that night that someone either had it in for him... or loved him very much.

Chuck watched with fascination as Blair slid her coat off of her perfect shoulders, handing it to the coat check girl who, incidentally, had been eying him all night. All he could see of Blair Waldorf's attire was that it was entirely inappropriate for a society gathering in December.

He loved it.

"You better be checking out the coat check girl."

At this point, even the irony of Serena being a buzz kill could not deter him.

"You know I'm not," he smirked, unable to take his eyes off of the way Blair's skirt slid up on her thighs as she walked.

And then she walked right past him without even a glance in his direction. There was always the possibility that she just didn't see him, but then again, she was Blair Waldorf. And the moment she leaned over the bar to speak to a particularly young bartender, twisting her hair from her neck, he knew every move she made since she entered the hotel had been deliberate.

Just for him.

"So are you just completely shameless now?" Serena asked.

"Shame turns me on," Chuck answered without even looking at her, making his way towards the bar. He looked coolly to his right to see Blair, looking absentminded, swirling her drink. He knew the truth. She knew exactly to the second how long he had been staring at her.

"Scotch."

He could suddenly smell the very perfume that she had traced down the nape of her neck just for him, and he looked to his side as their eyes locked heatedly.

Until they were interrupted.

"Just because it's an open bar, doesn't mean you have to abuse it."

Blair's form was suddenly blocked by his best friend in a navy suit and Chuck sighed. He looked into innocent eyes that matched Nate's clothes and shrugged.

"I've barely seen you all week."

Chuck was about to come up with a slightly disgusting excuse when Blair saved him the trouble. With slick poise, Blair slid between them, crossing her bare legs so that Chuck couldn't help but notice.

He was only human.

A depraved and hedonistic human.

"Blair," Nate cleared his throat, and Chuck didn't blame him, considering the fact that Blair was completely ignoring him.

"Archibald," Blair said shortly without much care at all.

Chuck wasn't continuing the telepathic conversations that they seemed to be developing lately due to the fact that he couldn't look away from her legs.

"Aren't you cold?" Nate asked suspiciously. And he knew that had everything to do with the fact that he couldn't care that Nate was completely aware where Chuck's eyes strayed unrepentantly.

"Not in the slightest."

Chuck finally dragged his gaze slowly up her body to see her impatient, yet alluring gaze.

"Bass," Blair said, prodding his calf gently with the toe of her Louboutin. "What about that drink you promised me?"

Chuck didn't have to guess about the meaning of the code she had evidently just developed.

"Drink," Chuck stated. "Was that me?"

"Maybe if you weren't busy staring at the coat check girl you would have remembered," Blair said dryly.

"You can't blame him, Blair," Nate said, obviously trying to get in on the conversation. "He is Chuck Bass."

"Yes," she said slowly before leaning in to speak to him more intimately. "When I get back from the lounge, I expect a gin martini."

Chuck looked down at his thigh to see Blair's suggestive placement of her hand. But it only lasted a moment because she had slid down easily from her chair to make him watch her walk away.

He knew that she wasn't coming back.

"Chuck."

Chuck tore himself away from her fading visage and suddenly realized that entire exchange had just happened in front of his best friend.

And her ex-boyfriend.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" Chuck asked easily. But Nate gave him a knowing look. He was his best friend, after all.

"You were using your seductive voice."

"My what?"

"The voice you use when you're trying to get girls to sleep with you," Nate elaborated unnecessarily.

"We were just talking, Nathaniel," Chuck said. "That's how we usually converse. Things aren't like they used to be when we were twelve."

He knew it was harsh, but it was a reality Nate would have to come to terms with. Back in middle school they bickered and laughed, but it wasn't like that. It hadn't been for a long time. Serena leaving had changed things. Nate had just been pining so much after her that he hadn't realized. Chuck and Blair had become something more complex then friends. They were scheming partners and now they had turned into something more.

It was only a matter of time. Chuck had to tell himself this because it was the only way he could alleviate himself of the guilt. He never felt for girls the way he did for Blair and he never would. She was different.

But he left that train of thought at that because then it got into a whole mess of emotional problems that he did just not want to deal with.

"Now, if you don't mind," Chuck said, "I'm going to find that coat check girl."

Chuck slipped off into the opposite direction of the coat check and towards the lounge, and couldn't help but be relieved that Nate hadn't noticed he never ordered Blair's drink.

"And what are you doing here all alone?" Chuck asked gently as he spotted Blair at the foot of the staircase, leading upstairs to the suites.

"Waiting to see if you'd take that working girl's offer?" Blair asked. Warmth spread through him at the hint of jealousy that tainted her voice, but he still didn't know what any of it meant for them. So he just continued their banter like they always did.

"Why would I," he asked, "when I have a better one right here?"

"Who says you do?" Blair taunted.

"You don't use your powers of persuasion to lure me out of solitude for nothing," Chuck reminded her. Her fingers were warm and he only masked his surprise just in time as they curled around his own.

He stared after her as she turned her back on him, starting up the stairs. Her heels clicked in reminder to him. His arm was going with her and his feet followed just in time. His eyes found their place at the hem of her skirt as she led him to one of the rooms.

"Your outfit is highly inappropriate for this juncture," he told her with mock seriousness as he closed the door behind them.

"Oh, no," Blair said, playing along. "Do you think I should take it off?"

"I think you should do whatever your desires are urging you to," he answered huskily. He began to scowl as she took her body heat away from him, walking artfully backwards in her sky-high heels.

He knew them well.

"Or maybe you want to just go downstairs and talk with Nate."

Her voice was mocking and he wasn't sure if they were still playing or not.

He liked playing with her. So much so that as she moved away from him, he found himself following obediently like she had him on a string.

He answered exactly what his instincts told him to.

"Nate...?"

This response seemed to satisfy her but he was still perplexed at the relief that flooded her face. But like the expert at masking her emotions she was, it was quickly wiped away.

She stepped up on the bed, in heels and all and he knew that he was being told to follow with the simple movement. He knelt at her feet, allowing her to place her foot at his chest. He quickly unclipped it to throw it across the room, anchoring her with his hand clasped around her ankle. She wavered slightly and he took the opportunity to sweep her legs from beneath her so she was sprawled gracefully on her back next to him.

Chuck ran his lithe fingers down her leg to unclasp the following shoe, tossing it in the general direction that he thought maybe the other one had gone.

"Miss Waldorf," Chuck said quietly in the room, "you're trying to seduce me. Aren't you?"

"Trying," Blair sneered. "I could feel your eyes up my skirt all the way across the room."

"I didn't ask to fall victim to your temptation," Chuck uttered lowly in her ear, letting his tongue lick it slowly.

"You're not exactly complaining though," Blair said back, finding the zipper on his pants, "are you?"

Just as he felt her about to slide her hand inside, he found himself catching it.

"And for the first time, neither are you," he said.

"Do I ever complain?" Blair asked innocently.

"Not in the end," Chuck said finding that for the first time, he was glad to let her fingers slip through his. Blair rolled him onto his back, climbing over him, peeling off her layers for him.

"So why are you?"

Her fingers flicked open the buttons of his shirt with such practiced ease that he suddenly became wary that someone had come before him. He knew for a fact that wasn't true. He had the physical proof all over him that first night she let him inside. But it was that jealousy that was seeping through his blood he knew he had to push away. It was dangerous. Already Blair knew he liked her. He couldn't let anything else bar his entrance.

This woman was made for him. It was what made all the anger and all the paranoia of the blonde downstairs go away. He knew he should feel guilt, but he knew he just couldn't when they were together like this.

"I was just waiting for you to take me up here," he said cheekily. "Which could have happened with more efficiency if you kept your best friend on a leash at home."

"Ignore her," Blair said through the fervent kisses that left them panting. "Not that you were in any hurry to come up here with me."

It was that tone in her voice that made him suspicious of any jealousy that she had but he couldn't think like that. Thoughts like those led to feelings and he knew especially from the woman on top of him that feelings led to heartache. And he refused to let Blair Waldorf break his heart.

Even when she was grinding herself on him like she was.

"It's not like you want Nate to find out," Chuck said a little more harshly than he intended. He couldn't let the bitterness for his best friend seem so obvious when he had everything that wanted, save for his father's affection.

Blair was enough.

Blair sat up suddenly, however, and he led his head fall back in disappointment. If she did this just to leave him high and dry, he didn't know what he would do. It was too painful to think about.

"Charles," Blair purred in the way that made him even hotter than he thought possible.

She only called him that when they were alone together like this and he knew it was because she wasn't pleased about something. When she was, she would rake her fingernails down his chest or pull at his hair. It made him frightened, but made him want her even more. No one could ever know him like she could. And he liked it.

"I am so _tired_," Blair said, pulling her hair off of her perspiring neck, "of competing with my ex-boyfriend for your attention."

Chuck froze. He had no shirt on, his pants were halfway down his legs and an incredibly alluring girl was on him in her La Perlas talking about how she hated her ex-boyfriend and wanted him.

Her hand slid down his body and he suddenly couldn't even remember what they were talking about, let alone why it was a problem. All he saw was her, and instinct simply kicked in.

He flipped her beneath him, ripping off the remains of her clothing, relishing in the fact that he was the first and only man to ever have her this way. She was leaning back on her elbows, her head thrown back with her dark hair spilling down her back and he had never seen a more beautiful woman.

Her fingers gripped the headboard and it was only when she cried out against his lips did he realize what happened.

"Blair."

She looked up at him with that dazed expression that he adored and had become so familiar with in the past few weeks.

She was evil. She was so perfectly evil and delicious that he knew she must have been meant for him all along.

"That girl was looking at you."

That was definitely jealousy.

"Was that the reason you distracted me with sex?" Chuck asked.

"I told you," Blair said, sitting up. "I don't like sharing."

"Is that so?" Chuck asked, and then wove his fingers through her hair to force her to look at him. "Neither do I. And I don't like Nathaniel seeing you like this either."

"At a gala?"

"That dress should only be seen on you by me," Chuck said. Blair laughed, pushing him away.

"Did I get your attention?"

He knew they were both skirting away from the subject, and they were talking like they were dating when they really weren't.

It was the cocky way that she said it, and Chuck knew he had just fallen in love with his match.

And that was dangerous.

**Focus**

_You can't outbid me. How are you planning to win?_

_Your lack of focus._

When it came to the two of them, Chuck couldn't help but look at it as a competition. Either she gave in to him, or it was the other way around, with her leaving him to watch her walk away. And there was no way he could lose. Then again, there was a larger competition than that. The one between him and her, where he either won or lost her.

Pulling on his coat as her dress from the night before sparkled tauntingly at him, he knew that was the game they were playing now. He had hated her for leaving him for so long, but that night it was clear. When she walked up to him with that smirk he knew so well, dangling Georgina Sparks' location right in front of his face, he couldn't help but bite. And just like that, Blair Waldorf had just hooked herself a Bass.

A Bass that looked up her skirt while she walked in front of him.

As he found himself in her bed once more, it was quite clear that he was done losing. He was done watching her with his best friend and he was definitely done having to stave off his overwhelming sense of need for her.

It served for many lonely and frustrating nights in his cold bed since he could quite easily have any slut in any bar in Manhattan.

So as she slammed her door in his face, he knew that for the first time, he was actually winning. If she really didn't care about him, he would know it.

It was at this point in his life when he suddenly realized that he wasn't the one in control anymore. Because she was walking up to him in that pink dress of hers at his father's wedding and he knew he had no control whatsoever about what was about to happen.

He was desperately in love with her and that would never change. She was a coy seductress and what happened next was entirely up to her. He had never felt more helpless.

And as her toe dug into his shin, he knew that no one had ever cared about him more than at that very moment. He had to watch her walk away. Because he knew she wasn't going anywhere.

"Are you finished yet?"

As much as he wanted to handle this, he wasn't sure if he could. It was after the ceremony and he still hadn't finished his speech. He and Nate were at odds and Blair crossing her legs so innocently when she knew what it did to him was not fair in the least.

Chuck looked up from his note cards, knowing that logically, this shouldn't be happening. She had kicked him from her room and he had just spotted her arguing with that Brooklyn girl about Nate.

And yet here she was. He was starting to think that maybe her leaving him on a dance floor, dangling Nate in front of him, and professing her hatred for him meant something very different than he initially thought it had.

"And when is the last time you have?"

Confusion colored her face for a moment, before she realized that he wasn't speaking about speeches, but instead something that he was very good at—something that had happened in her own bed.

"I thought you said we were done," he taunted at her glare.

"I'm bored."

"So I'm just your source of entertainment?" Chuck asked bitterly. How very familiar.

"Maybe you're the only one who can interest me."

"You're just starting to realize that?" Chuck asked dryly.

"I never realized how difficult it was to write a speech," Blair said pointedly.

It was that simple sentence that made him realize that it had always been this way between them. He was always the one staring after her, unable to think of anything else.

It wasn't any different now and it never would be again.

"I would have to say that has less to do with my eloquent skills and more to do with your completely purposeful ones."

"Eloquence?" Blair asked.

"Skills," he smirked.

"It must be instinctual."

"Or maybe they're learned skills," he offered smoothly. "It doesn't change the fact that you are the very source of my inability to focus."

"Me?" she blinked at him through her eyelashes.

"You know exactly what you're doing," he said.

"I guess I should leave then, and not distract you any longer."

As she stood to leave, her silky skirt sliding down her silky thighs, he knew he had to agree.

That is, if she hadn't slid her hand up his thigh as she had, her expression one of innocence. Chuck froze, never doubting for a second that she knew exactly what her fingers were doing.

There was a reason that he had to make up a speech off the top of his head when the time came.

The exact same reason she allowed him to wrap his arms around her during the first dance.

**Special**

_It's not destiny if you have to barter your way in. You're special enough on your own. You don't need some group to say you are._

She had always been perfect. So put together. So impeccable. He knew how things worked in their world. Everything was smooth on the surface, but in reality, held jagged and sharp edges beneath.

So he supposed he wasn't that surprised. He couldn't be surprised that Blair Waldorf was just like him. She dressed and spoke the part of the Virgin Queen, but she was really the devil underneath.

Blair was damaged. There was a light beneath her bathroom door and coupled with the sound of running water, it made Chuck nauseous. How she tortured and harmed herself and no one really seemed to notice. No one that mattered, at least.

Because he knew. And suddenly he felt lost, unsure as to what he was doing and why it was always him. He was alway the one who saw and yet, he couldn't do anything.

He just wasn't good. He wasn't good enough to save and help and nourish. He was rotten to his very core. But if that was true, he couldn't figure for the life of him why he was sitting shakily at Blair's desk like he actually gave a damn.

"Get out."

It made his stomach churn. The way mascara was painted down her face with her own tears and how she didn't even care that he was there. She ripped at the corset of the dress she had worn for the charity event, shrugging out of it violently, and she didn't even care that he was there. Usually, she would playfully chuck something at his head to make him leave while she changed, but this was different.

And he hated his best friend for it.

He hated his best friend so much because he was walking towards the untouchable Queen, and as she glared at herself in the mirror, he brought his hands gently to her neck, pulling her hair away from her tear-stained face.

"What are you doing?"

She whirled around, her face a summer between her usual anger and an unfamiliar fear.

"I don't know."

In his own mind, he was more than bewildered, but he could hear his tone and it came out more antagonistic and defensive.

"What are you even doing here?" she demanded, giving up on her bid to rid herself of her clothes and collapsing on her bed.

"It amuses me to watch you suffer."

Her eyes blazed and something came out of his mouth that he had never expected.

"Don't make me be nice to you."

"No one is forcing you to be here," Blair responded. "In fact, I would venture to say that no one wants you here."

"You may not want me here," Chuck said, "but you need me."

"I wouldn't go that far," she warned.

"Do you see anyone else here?"

"Don't," Blair said. "I know it is your hobby to torture me, but just don't. Not tonight."

"What makes you think I like to torture you?" Chuck asked, almost curiously.

"What else would it be?" Blair asked. "You do everything in your power to make Nate see what a weak and pathetic person I am. You obviously prefer Serena-"

"I don't."

It wasn't a lie and her expression told him that she knew it too.

"How could you not?" Blair asked. "I see the way everyone looks at me when I'm next to her."

Chuck had a sneaking suspicion of what she was referring to, but he knew that she sure as hell didn't.

She took his silence as a sign to elaborate.

"The way people stare..." Blair said shakily. "Serena is a goddess and I don't even have to be next to her for people to realize how unattractive I am."

He knew what she meant by _unattractive_. She meant what her mother meant when she said, _maybe you'll find a non-fat yogurt more appealing_.

"Blair," Chuck breathed, hating how this small, little girl had so much power over him. He warned her not to control him. He couldn't handle being forced to be nice to such a neurotic and insecure female. But he just couldn't help it.

Like it or not, Blair Waldorf could manipulate him even more than his own father. And she didn't even know it.

"People don't stare at you because you're _unattractive_," he said with distaste. "They stare at you because you're beautiful."

Nothing but shock was betrayed on her face and he knew he had to cover his tracks.

"I told you," he said. "Don't make me be nice to you."

"I think you should leave."

This time it was him who was shocked, and he looked up at her from the bed. If it had been anyone else, he would have assumed Blair was attempting to allure him with her lack of dress and the way she was lounging.

But he knew better.

That didn't mean he knew what was happening right at that moment.

"What?"

"I'm not making you be nice to me," Blair said. "So you should leave."

"That's not what I meant."

"Chuck," Blair said, giving him his first smile of the night. "I know you and I don't have the simplest relationship."

"We don't have a relationship."

"You don't want me to be with Nate."

"I want Nate to get laid," Chuck corrected. "I have a theory that he wouldn't brood so much if he was satisfied."

"So I understand that you don't want to be here."

"Maybe I do," he said, wondering why he cared so much.

"Maybe you would like me more if I broke up with Nate."

"Maybe I would."

"So if you ever actually care," Blair said. "I want you to mean it."

Chuck's eyes narrowed.

"If one day that you're actually comforting," Blair said, "then I know that it's because you actually care and that I'm not your charity case."

"You want me to tell you that you're special," Chuck said, knowing that she was. He knew that there was no one like Blair Waldorf on the planet.

"Only if you mean it."

Chuck sat across from her on the bed.

They sat like that for hours, never speaking a word.

That didn't mean it wasn't true.


	8. The Lost Boy Part III

**A/N**: Last chapter of Lost Boy. Hope you enjoy :)

**Summary**: That bitch had to know what she was doing, but even if she didn't, it was still all her fault. Because he had never felt this way about anyone and that was why it would forever stand out in his mind. She would be the first and nothing would ever compare to her.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing is mine. Quotes belong to GG as well as inspiration.

* * *

**Bribes**

_Since when does Chuck Bass pay for a partner? The Chuck I knew bribed no one but me._

"On me you would be so much more."

It wasn't the first time, but more than anything, Chuck had to find a way to get Blair to accompany him to Cotillion.

"Tuscany with Chuck. Sounds romantic."

It was the only way he could make it so she wouldn't run off in the morning.

"Have sex with me."

It was the bribe he was the most talented at.

"Where'd you get the dress?"

"Oh...just, Chuck."

He always knew her size.

"Why aren't you in Europe?"

Presents piled high, and yet, that still wasn't the first time that Chuck Bass had ever bribed Blair Waldorf.

It was her fault, really. The mesmerizing way her legs looked when she strutted out of that church. The way she so easily rebuffed him in that classy way that no other woman could ever accomplish. The way he hadn't slept, and his impending nausea.

All of it was her fault.

That bitch had to know what she was doing, but even if she didn't, it was still all her fault. Because he had never felt this way about anyone and that was why it would forever stand out in his mind. She would be the first and nothing would ever compare to her.

It was her fault because he was opening the door to the ostentatious bedroom and he knew one thing for certain.

There was no way he could let this go.

"It's the Erikson Beamon necklace."

It was her half-hearted refusal and the way that she bent her head to allow him to clasp it around her neck. And with that, he knew. Something was different. Something was strange, and somehow, a little perfect because their fingers were intertwining and Chuck knew how wrong it should feel that he was holding hands with a woman.

But it just didn't.

He didn't initiate it. That was what got him through it. It was how he stayed sane as her lips suddenly melded with his and although she mandated that he murder those butterflies, he didn't know how in the world that was possible when she was stripped bare with nothing but his necklace to keep her warm.

Nothing but his own naked weight on top of her to keep her warm.

He still knew better. He still knew that even though it was Blair's hands around his face like it had been the previous night, he was still at fault. She told him to leave it alone. She told him to forget it and that nothing had happened.

He didn't know why she was surprised that he didn't heed.

"Why are you here?"

Though clothes had been discarded, Chuck's need had yet to be satisfied as he hesitated above her.

Suffice to say, this was not a time he wanted to spend talking.

"What?"

"You could have easily gotten a girl to spend the night with," Blair replied. "Why me? Why are you here?"

"Because I want to be," Chuck answered. He could tell she didn't exactly trust him from the way her eyes narrowed, but his mind was more centered on how close they were and less on her emotional stability at the moment.

"You usually don't care when a girl rejects you."

Chuck paused, knowing that she was right. He had never worked this hard to gain a girl's attention before.

"I've never seen you bribe anyone to sleep with you before."

Then again, Blair wasn't just a girl. She was Blair. And he would spend the next three hours proving that to her.

"Darling," Chuck murmured into the dark. "Like it or not, you want this more than you want those diamonds. So don't pretend like you're gracing me with your presence."

Her eyes look offended and he knew that no man would ever even attempt to speak to her that way.

He wasn't just any man.

"You think you're so special," she sneered.

"You are in bed with me," Chuck said. "So shut up and enjoy it."

"Don't attempt to try and sweet talk me," Blair warned. And surging through her, Chuck never stopped to think of the strangeness of that sentence.

No one else ever accused Chuck of being sweet.

Then again, no one else was Blair Waldorf.

**Risk**

_I'm sorry, S. But it's still Carter. Are you sure it's worth the risk?_

_I don't know. You tell me. You and Chuck are two of the most self-centered, damaged people I know._

_I'm not following._

_Well somehow how two wrongs make a twisted right. You don't think it was worth the risk?_

Standing on the stage, the lights blurring her eyes so all she could see was one devilish smirk and a toast of champagne, Blair Waldorf had been sure at the time that nothing would come of it. This was how they were. They bantered and played and challenged. So Chuck Bass had practically dared her to perform a strip tease. That didn't mean anything.

Lying against the headrest of a sleek limo, Blair Waldorf had been sure at the time that nothing was that serious. So she kissed Chuck Bass and practically dared him to take her virginity. It wasn't like he had to.

Then again, he was Chuck Bass.

So writhing so many times over with Chuck Bass saying things secretively in her ear that no self-respecting girl should hear, she never really considered it a risk. There was a risk that his best friend and her ex-boyfriend would find out, but that was all that occurred to her. Chuck was Chuck. He had never threatened her, nor truly despised her to the point of destruction. He was just Chuck and she was just Blair.

She hadn't realized what she had done to herself until she found herself betrayed on the floor of her debut. Then again, it was just her heart. Wounds healed.

A reputation, however, was harder to repair.

Her denial came to a point with a certain Bass' _now you're like one of the Arabians my father __used to own._

She hadn't bothered herself with it because Chuck Bass was just something she had to get out of her system.

And then he looked at her again. There was that self-assured smile that made her think of every single exchange they had ever had. She never thought it had been a risk before. He was one of her best friends, one she had known since birth. But as his eyes caught hers, his glass raised at his father's wedding in a motion similar to one that had occurred while she was on a stage, it made her realize.

Chuck Bass had her entire heart. And she hadn't even known until it was too late. It was all too late. She couldn't stop it now. She couldn't stop the avalanche that they had always been. Because now she loved him and there wasn't anything she could do about it.

It was never a conscious choice. She never wanted to fall for Chuck Bass. She couldn't think of anyone who would.

Until now.

She had just become her own worst enemy.

_You look ravishing. If I were your man, I wouldn't need clues to find you._

She should have known. She had been so used to Chuck's perversion she hadn't realized what was right there.

She should have known.

_I haven't slept. I feel sick like there's something in my stomach... fluttering._

She told him to destroy them.

She should have realized that was something they both didn't want.

_Unless you want dear Nathaniel to find out you lost your virginity in the back of a moving vehicle, I encourage patience and restraint._

She ignored it all. The jealousy. The scheming. She ignored how she felt for him too.

_No one enjoys their first time._

_Except you._

So she kicked him. She kicked him because he was right. She kicked him because he incurred something in her that she would never be able to name. She kicked him because she knew she no longer had any control whatsoever over what happened to her.

And she never would again.

_I didn't make you do anything. You were just you. Don't you see? We're the same. Now stop trying to fight it._

Through all the boyfriends and all the heartache, she was just denying one simple fact. She and Chuck had been made for each other. Their path was just more complicated than she was willing to take.

_The thing that always fascinated me about you. The cool exterior. The fire below._

And that was the end of it.

Because standing there, in front of his limo while he attempted to bribe her again with presents and flowers, she wanted to say _no _as much as she wanted to say _yes_. Chuck was manipulative and cruel and scheming.

So, yes. She did take that risk.

But only because for her, there was no other alternative.

For her, a life without Chuck wasn't a life at all.

**Eye for an Eye**

_It was Chuck and Blair. The girl on the street, the room service, your credit card._

_Yeah, I sort of put that together yesterday._

_You did?_

_When it comes to an eye for an eye, Chuck's a man of the cloth._

"Sorry if you sense any tension. These two don't like each other that much because they share the same taste in women. Sometimes, they share the actual women."

"Me? I just hate the guy."

When it came to the subject of Chuck Bass' hatred for Carter Baizen, there were many theories. There was the debacle involving Nate Archibald's attempt at poker in Queens, and the fact that if Chuck and Carter weren't practically the same person, they could actually be friends.

Though many of those had some validity, Carter never spent one second fooling himself. He knew the exact reason why Chuck detested him, and her name was Blair Waldorf. Carter remembered Chuck's previous distaste for him, but it hadn't kicked into high gear until he found a sad girl all alone at a bar and bought her a drink.

He knew Chuck was in love with her. He did before even Chuck probably knew. And he used to against him.

The twisted thing was, Blair didn't seem to mind. That was what worried him. Watching her next to the glorious and effervescent Serena van der Woodsen, it was easy to look past her. She was prim, rigid, and as far as he could tell, completely and utterly generic.

_"I'm the one trying to help you."_

Standing behind Blair while Chuck Bass exhibited actual emotion instead of serene boredom or lust, Carter realized that both of them were two of a kind. And the world really didn't need another Chuck Bass.

"Did I not make myself clear?"

Carter should have known that one day in the city, and Chuck Bass would find him immediately.

Carter turned slowly to see cold eyes that he couldn't be bothered with pretending to be intimidated by at the moment.

"Chuck," Carter said. "It's been awhile."

"Five months," Chuck sneered. "But who's counting?"

"Listen," Carter sighed. "I really don't have the energy for our verbal barbs at the moment."

"And here I thought you came back to catch up," Chuck drawled. "Though I'm sure I made it explicitly clear that you are not longer permitted here."

"Why?" Carter laughed. "Is this your city?"

"Half the Manhattan skyline is," Chuck retorted.

Carter sighed. "I'm sure you're still really upset that I gave it to the girl you had a hard-on for."

Chuck's face contorted into a mask of well restrained fury, but then again, there wasn't anything that Carter wasn't expecting.

"Since you seem to be lacking in common sense, as of late," Chuck said quietly, "let me make this evident for you. No one wants you here. And there are consequences for breaching my mandate."

"Why?" Carter asked. "Afraid I'm going to lay your girlfriend again? I'm surprised she even took you back. I thought she was better than that."

But instead of taking offense, Chuck smirked in a way that Carter found slightly disconcerting.

"Just remember what I said," Chuck replied.

To be honest, Carter wasn't surprised. Chuck had an MBA in Revenge. If he had even bothered to show up for class. He didn't need to see the bill for the bottle of Dom or even some ditz who pretended they had slept together.

The truth was that Chuck liked sending messages. And he liked it even more when he did it in Carter's bed at The Downing.

Carter got it loud and clear as he watched Chuck and Blair stumbling down the stairs to a hotel that the Basses didn't own and Blair Waldorf wouldn't get caught in. He watched as Blair tried to discreetly straighten her skirt, Chuck winding his arm around her shoulders to kiss her intimately on the neck.

Blair was about to walk further when Chuck caught her hand, pulling her subtly behind the stairs.

"What are you doing, Bass?"

Blair didn't sound cold and cruel like he remembered her. He remembered the cold-hearted girl hell-bent on revenge and how even though she knew what she was doing, could never measure up to Serena.

That wasn't the same girl that stood before him now. Now he heard playfulness and intimacy. It disgusted him how someone like Chuck Bass had a woman who loved him and he had to fight to even get Serena to look at him for five minutes.

"Are my intentions really that elusive?"

Come to think of it, he had never Chuck talk that way either. To anyone. And he couldn't help but listen.

"Considering the fact that we just charged three bottles of Dom to his room service, I think he'll get the message," Blair said.

It was at that moment that Carter knew Chuck was aware of his presence. Because it was then that Chuck pressed Blair against the back wall, assaulting her neck with his mouth.

"Chuck," Blair sighed. "Don't you think we used his bed enough as it is?"

"Well we're not in his bed anymore," Chuck murmured into her hair. "We're right behind the stairs. Suddenly you find me so abhorrent?"

"No..."

"There's my girl," Chuck smirked at Blair's reluctance to let him go. Chuck tangled his fingers through her hair as she wrapped her arms around his back and Carter had to wonder why he was watching the two people he hated most in the world making out furiously in the hotel he was staying at.

"Here," Chuck requested something that sounded more like a command.

"We're in public."

"You don't like that anymore?"

As he watched Chuck Bass getting Blair Waldorf to disrobe in a public hotel, Carter Baizen knew he had been marked. Chuck Bass was a vicious man.

And there wasn't any question as to whether Blair and Chuck knew he was there or not.


	9. Dan de Fleurette

**A/N**: Actually submitting on time this week. Go me. Ok, so another pre-series one that seems really familiar to other ones I've written. So...sorry about that.

**Summary**: She hadn't heard from him in a week, and she knew that didn't bode well for her. He was a calculating, manipulative bastard, and no one knew that better than a calculating, manipulative bitch.

**Disclaimer**: All quotes and inspiration go to GG, my beautiful muse. Give awesomeness to comewhaymay.x who continues to beta me:)

* * *

**Mortar-And-Pestle**

_You know today's the first day of Constance. Do you remember?_

_How you used to mortar-and-pestle all those spirits?_

He missed her. He hated himself, and he was full of self-loathing as he even thought about it, but walking towards the steps of Constance, he almost felt...excited.

It had been so long since he had felt any emotion that wasn't simply selfish pleasure, painful rejection from his father, and, yes, Blair Waldorf Herself.

Because there she was. He felt Eric at his side and even though Chuck knew he radiated self-assured smugness, there she was. And he couldn't help but smirk.

Impersonal was just what Chuck needed at the moment. Impersonal meant no attachment and relief in pleasure that wasn't automatically paired with pain. They had given each other enough in the past.

Impersonal was what he needed because there she was with her haughty look, and her holier-than-thou attitude when he knew what was really underneath.

"The lord and I are better than ever."

Impersonal was a necessity at this point, and someday, Little Van Der Woodsen would come to accept that cold, hard fact. Because she was cruel, she was cutting, and no one would ever compare to her.

This wasn't the first time.

"Are those last season's Tory Burch flats?"

The girl answered it like a question. "I got them on sale?"

Frozen in that moment, he had to smirk. Because even if the lord was apparently doing so well with her, he knew it wasn't going to last. Because Marcus was an outsider. Marcus came from across the sea, and he could never understand what it was like.

What they were like.

The only people who understood them were Chuck and Blair.

"You know there's nothing I like better than tearful underclassmen in the morning."

"A shocking revelation."

She never missed a beat as she kept up her pace, even though she felt his omnipresence behind her.

"Considering you are usually the reason for their tears over their tarnished virtue."

"As I recall," Chuck answered, just as quickly, "the only virtue I had the esteemed pleasure of enjoying was yours. And you were crying in pleasure more than humiliation."

"You really can't take a hint," Blair asked, finally stopping in the courtyard, "can you?"

"I just choose not to."

"There is a reason I'm with the Lord of Brighton instead of the Prince of Darkness," Blair said. "And it's your own fault you were distracted by something blonde and shiny."

"The Prince marries a Queen," Chuck pointed out.

"Like anyone would be fool enough to trap herself into matrimony with you," Blair retorted.

"I guess you're a fool then," Chuck answered, reveling in her shocked disapproval of his blunt statement. "Because if I'm ever going to get married, you know it's going to be to you. No one else satisfies."

"You say that now," Blair said, ignoring the fact how easily he spoke of marriage to her. "But you'll meet some ambitious sex-crazed woman one day, and that will be enough for you."

"I'm looking at her," Chuck smirked. "Besides, marrying someone exactly like me would just get boring after awhile. Too much predictability."

"And here I recall you saying with as much genuineness as you can muster that we're the _same_," she said with disdain, and in that instant, he knew it. He knew that she listened to every calculated syllable he recited to her.

And she cared.

So he would keep caring to.

"We are," he answered. "We scheme. We're insecure. But most of all, we're unpredictable. You are the most multi-faceted being I have ever had the pleasure of encountering. And nothing can take that away."

"If you don't mind," Blair said coldly, "I have Projects to manage."

"I have no doubt."

He loved watching her walk away as much as he hated it, and that was the moment he decided that waiting to tell her he loved her was the right move.

Especially because first time he realized it, she was laying her hierarchy down on those very same steps.

**Sleepover '08**

_Unfortunately, I've already scheduled an all night cram session with my tutees. _

_Miss, Blair, you want me set beds before manicurists arrive-_

_Thank you, Dorota. That will be all._

_Are you sure you said cram session and not the annual Waldorf sleepover?_

It was the middle of the night that Blair should have realized the problem. To be completely honest, probably even before that. She hadn't heard from him in a week, and she knew that didn't bode well for her. He was a calculating, manipulative bastard, and no one knew that better than a calculating, manipulative bitch.

**It seems you've found a way to entertain yourself for the night without me**

Blair narrowed her eyes at the carefully calculated text that Chuck Bass must have spent several minutes crafting. Blair looked around the club, her eyes settling on the party sharing drinks and challenges in truth or dare.

"Is everything alright?"

At the sound of Serena's voice, Blair looked up from the LCD screen lighting up the club.

"Fine," Blair answered succinctly. She knew she wasn't paranoid or delusional. She wasn't even that wary. She was just...confused.

She knew how easy it would be for anyone—not just the likes of Chuck Bass—to find her with the ingenious medium of the Internet.

Then again, Chuck always had a plan. And maybe it was about time she started getting wary because she couldn't remember the last time Chuck had communicated with her in anything but hostile terms.

And she was quite aware of how very far she was from any romantic attachment. And how that always seemed to ignite Chuck's internal fires.

"You can't be here."

She understood all the signs, but somehow, her logic refused to believe it.

Whether it was believable or not, there he was. Chuck Bass lounging on her bed in the dark.

The light in her bathroom had already been switched off and they were both shrouded in darkness. Once again.

"And yet..." he drawled darkly into the night, "here I am."

"Much to my dismay," Blair sneered, falling into the familiar pattern that she knew was just a facade to cover everything they refused to say to each other. "How many times do I have to tell you, Bass?"

"That I'm not welcome to your sacred slumber party?" Chuck asked. "Too many times to count."

"It's a soirée," Blair corrected easily.

"Taking into account that this will be the last _soirée_ you'll be holding," Chuck said, ignoring her comment, "I figured you would make an exception."

"And that is where your arrogant confidence spirals into the realm of impossibility," Blair said.

"Can you blame me?" Chuck asked quietly and she felt her stomach drop. She knew that not exiling him immediately on sight had been her failure. And she knew exactly what he had come here for. "Can you blame me for missing you?"

His body was suddenly hot against hers, and fortunately, she was quick enough to shove him away before any further damage could be done.

"Don't even attempt to try that with me," Blair warned.

"Try what," Chuck said softly, "exactly?"

At her prolonged silence, he chuckled.

"I missed you at Yale," Chuck said. "Did it work out as you had planned?"

"More or less."

"Really?" Chuck asked in disbelief. "I couldn't help but notice Serena's name on the wardrobe rack as I-"

"As you snuck into my party that's strictly female?" Blair asked.

"I must confess," Chuck said, ignoring her barb. "When I approached you those weeks ago, I had an ulterior motive."

"Did you?" Blair asked dryly, knowing the steps to their familiar waltz.

"I had plotted to pit you and Serena together so I could get closer to you as we schemed to get your throne back."

"This is such a surprise."

"Your sarcasm wounds me."

"Why don't you tell me something," Blair suggested.

"What's that?"

His voice had turned breathy, and no matter how much she wanted to pull the rug out from beneath him, she couldn't help her curiosity.

"What would you have done," Blair murmured, "if I had accepted?"

"I would be loyal to you and only you," Chuck whispered back. "And the world would tremble before us."

This time, his heat was not something she abhorred, but what she couldn't help but want to embrace.

"Chuck-"

The moment his name left her lips, searing white-hot pain scalded her eyes and she shaded her eyes from the bright light that suddenly flooded the room.

"_Blair_."

Serena's hand wrapped around her best friend's arm, shoving Blair behind her protectively.

"Hello, sister," Chuck greeted calmly, but Blair wasn't fooled. His eyes weren't even on Serena, but past her barrier.

"How did you get in here?" Serena demanded.

"Fate was on my side," Chuck smirked.

"Well Fate is kicking you out right now," Serena said. Chuck's eyes grew cold for a fraction of a second before his carefree expression graced his face once again.

"For now," Chuck acquiesced, before his voice dropped dangerously. "But you have gotten in my way one to many times, sis."

He leaned away, passing Serena easily to cast his eyes on the object of his perverse affection.

"Waldorf," he said, leaning in swiftly to kiss her on the cheek before Serena could stop him. "Until we meet again."

As Serena's scowl transferred from Chuck to Blair, Blair couldn't help but feel as though that would be very soon.

**Understand**

_You don't understand._

_I do understand. Let me help._

It hadn't only been when Serena went away. It was a friendship that you wanted to push away because it was something you simply couldn't understand. But if there was anything Chuck Bass could understand, it was Blair Waldorf. And that within itself was confusing.

It was something that had always been there. In her dark and calculating eyes and the way she didn't even notice how the eyes of every St. Jude's student followed her perfect form. It was never something Chuck could understand. Until he realized that he understood Blair Waldorf.

The bottle of perfume exploded over his head and Chuck would be lucky if he didn't smell like Chanel No. 5 for the rest of the week. Standing there in her evening gown was a seething Blair Waldorf.

"Well, where is he?"

Her chest was heaving and Chuck tried not to pay too much attention to that. It was dirty and sinful and not for his eyes at all.

"I don't know," Chuck said. "He just said that he wasn't coming."

Chuck was just relieved she didn't throw that curling iron that was still plugged in. It may not have reached far, but he was definitely close enough to get burned.

It was these fascinating facets that made up Blair Waldorf. How her rage could radiate for miles, but those vulnerable eyes of hers just welled up. He hated emotion. Showing it to his father and on any other person. But she just had that innocent way about her that made her so precious. And Chuck knew she was one of a kind.

Though it was suddenly clear she wasn't crying because of him, or even his own best friend. The cause of her distress was looking reprovingly at them both and he wished he had closed the door when he came to inform Blair that her date was standing her up.

"What is going on up here?" Eleanor asked in her deathly tone. "Where's Nathaniel?"

"I'll be escorting Blair this evening," Chuck said politely.

Eleanor didn't even grace him with a look of relief. She was still glaring at her daughter and Chuck felt a chilling sense of déjà vu. Chuck knew that look from a disapproving parent all too well. And he wouldn't wish that look on anyone.

"If you could save your temper tantrum until our guests leave," Eleanor said scathingly, "it would be preferable."

"I'm sorry, Mother."

Eleanor responded with closing the door sharply behind her.

Chuck knew that gazing at Blair's vulnerability was exactly the wrong thing to do at that moment. But he couldn't help it. He couldn't help but feel completely himself when he was with her.

"What are you looking at?" she snapped.

"Some way to treat the person who just saved you from attending your mother's party without a date," Chuck said. He knew this was not the way to handle it. But the provoking glances she always sent him made him act in ways that were just illogical.

"Get out."

At least she didn't throw her aluminum bottle of hairspray at his face.

"You're not mad at me."

"Don't tell me how I feel," Blair said with disgust. "You don't know anything about me."

"Quite the contrary, sweetheart," Chuck said, approaching the bloodthirsty lioness, "I know just about everything about you. I know you're not really angry with me. I know that the only true reason you're displeased with Dear Nathaniel is because of the way your mother treats you because of it. And I know the only person you really hate is yourself. Because no matter what you do, or how hard you try, the one person you want to impress the most will always look down on you with displeasure."

It had been too far. That he knew. What he didn't expect was that this small and fragile girl would actually put her hands on him. His back hit the wall and he knew that she would never stop surprising him.

Not even if she tried.

Her nails bit into his shirtfront and for a frightening moment, he couldn't help but think about what those nails would feel like if he wasn't wearing a shirt at all.

"Relax," Chuck tried to say soothingly, grasping her wrists to stop her from attempting to beat him.

Silly girl.

"Don't pretend to understand what I feel," she snarled.

"Quite frankly, I don't care what you feel," Chuck answered, walking forward and pushing her along with him so he wasn't pinned against the wall any longer. "I just know what it's like."

Her eyes were dark and furious, but this time, she didn't object. He sat her gently in the chair before her vanity.

"Now," he said diplomatically, "we're going to go downstairs in approximately three minutes after you've stopped your hysterics."

He hovered behind her as she reapplied her mascara. Her hand froze with the wand clutched in it he slid his hands over her bare shoulders, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. But after a moment she continued just as casually as he was acting.

"Bart came home today."

He didn't know why he said it, but at her trembling sigh, he knew the worst of it was over.

"Don't."

"Don't what?" he asked playfully.

"Don't pretend to connect with me."

"We're not pretending," Chuck said. "It's happening."

"Why?"

"Because you're desperate and needy for someone to pay attention to you," Chuck said. "And you're just lucky that I have an equally self-destructive personality."

"You're not seriously suggesting that we have the slightest bit in common," Blair scoffed.

"I'm suggesting that we have quite a bit in common," Chuck said. "I see the way your mind turns. I see the way you take advantage of every opportunity to gain status. I see you, Waldorf."

Her shoulders were warm from his hands, and he couldn't help but use this opportunity to his own advantage. He knelt behind her, kneading her shoulders. She exhaled breathily and he felt another moment of weakness. For an instant, he let himself imagine what it would be like to hear that sound as he slid into her for the first time.

But the moment was over and he leaned his chin to her shoulder, their eyes locking through the mirror.

"You have a beautiful danger about you," he whispered in her ear. "Just like me."

"Am I narcissistic just like you?" Blair played along.

"Sometimes," Chuck answered. "And you like that about us."

He eased his hands beneath her silken curls, pulling them from where they spilled over her shoulders to tumble down her bare back.

"Don't tell anyone."

Her eyes were dark and taunting, and he just had to play along.

"Don't tell anyone, what?" he asked. "About the fire below that you hide from everyone but me?"

He turned his head to take in her profile as her lips pursed. He smoothed his hands down her hair. He didn't understand why she wasn't pushing away his inappropriately affectionate hands.

"We speak to each other, you know," Chuck said. "Don't ever forget it."

"Do I entertain you in some way?" Blair asked. "Is that it?"

"I like you, Blair Waldorf," Chuck said. "That's it. Because we're a good pair."

"I hope you mean strictly in the _Les Liaisons Dangereuses_ sense."

"What other sense would there be?" he questioned. "You and I scheme together. Because you and I are a matched set."

"And why would you want to help me?" she asked in disbelief.

The truth was, he didn't know.

"Because I always understand."

He didn't know until the exact moment he said it.

And in that exact moment, he knew he was in trouble.


	10. Rufus Getting Married

**A/N**: Totally forgot to submit last night. My bad. Here it is anyway. This is my favorite chapter that I've written. I think I'm getting my swagger back when it comes to my vignettes.

**Summary**: So he loved her. So he held her hand and offered to go to movies with her. He gave her dresses and jewelry because one day that dress would be white and that jewel would be on her left hand and he knew that.

**Disclaimer**: Quotes belong to GG as well as characters and such. Thanks to **comewhatmay.x**, my beta, who also enjoyed it.

* * *

**Nice**

_So you're happy with Chuck. Don't you think I deserve to be happy as well?_

_I know women, Nate. And none of us are that nice._

For a moment, he was stunned. For a moment, he forgot everything. He forgot that they had broken up and that she was a man-eating harpy. (She was.) And for that moment, Nate Archibald looked upon the surface perfection that was Blair Waldorf.

And then he remembered.

"Blair," Nate said, feeling his loyalty lock into place instantaneously. "I heard you got in last night."

Blair sighed indulgently at him, and he hated that she knew how good she looked. Her usual porcelain skin had been bronzed by the Parisian sun, and she had a glow about her that he attributed to a new boyfriend.

"Right."

She wasn't letting go of that indulgent tone.

"Who told you that?" Blair asked. "Your girlfriend?"

Nate swallowed, and he felt that familiar unsettling sensation that Blair could read his very transparent mind.

"So you've talked to Serena."

"Where do you think I spent the night?" Blair asked, giving him that sense that she was mocking him. He remembered his ex-girlfriend. But he couldn't figure out if this was her. She wore her face and owned her perfection like the girl he used to know. But Blair didn't belong to him anymore, and he was starting to accept that she hadn't for a very long time.

It was inevitable that the sight of her would lead his thoughts to his best friend. That used to bother him. Now he was more perplexed and curious than annoyed.

"You mean after you got off the Jitney?"

For the first time, he felt vindication. Blair's face didn't drop, but grew hard, and it was good to know that the Ice Queen had the ability to have her heart crack.

Then again, he was aware of that thanks to angry phone calls from Serena after Bart's wedding. But there was that stern loyalty rising within him, and from the way Chuck had returned the previous night, he had to protect him from the enemy.

Blair Waldorf was the evil, sadistic, and seductively loving enemy.

At least, that was the way Chuck had put it the previous night. He was drunk. And Nate knew that he really hadn't understood Blair. Not like that.

"Brothers until the end," Blair sneered condescendingly at him. "I guess your famous conscience didn't get the better of you this time."

"Blair..."

"From the one who just had to confess his infidelity about two seconds before I was going to give my virginity away."

"That isn't what you're mad about," Nate said. "You know that."

"I'm not mad," Blair blinked serenely. Nate hated it. He suddenly remembered his old girlfriend, and didn't feel bad about his allegiance one bit.

"Can't you just be..." Nate sighed. "Nice?"

"Nice," Blair repeated. "You really don't know women at all."

"What does that mean?"

"Serena humors you with whatever scheme you have going on because she's Serena," Blair said. "But my instinct tells me this is about a woman. Is she the picture of virtue and chastity? Is it how you imagined it would be?"

"You are taking pleasure out of ripping Chuck's heart out," Nate said, hating how Blair could still see right through him.

"He doesn't have a heart," Blair spat. "Let me illuminate you to simple female based logic. We need to protect ourselves. That idealized image you had of Serena doesn't exist. You saw what she did to Dan. So don't pretend like I'm some heartless monster. I was the one that waited on that helipad while he was screwing interior designers. He was the one that cut my heart out. He deserves everything he gets."

And that was that.

Nate watched Chuck with morbid curiosity as he donned his white dinner jacket. His best friend smoothed down his dark hair with neurotic scrutiny, and Nate had to wonder.

"Why do you even like her?"

Was this really all for her?

"Get ready for the party, Nathaniel."

Chuck's stiff posture would have been imperceptible to anyone but his best friend. And Nate knew enough that Chuck was most evasive when he wanted to be.

"I am correct in the assumption that you spoke with her," Chuck said after a moment.

"Yes," Nate said sullenly. Blair wasn't the only one who had the ability to make him crane his neck in attempt to see the superior heights Chuck's intellect and schemes rose to.

"How did she look?"

It was then that things were made perfectly clear. Yes, Chuck liked her. That much was certain. But Chuck wasn't any smarter than Nate had been. In fact, Chuck was in the exact place Nate had been in a year ago, give or take a few key details.

Chuck wanted to suppress his desire and all-encompassing need for an unattainable woman. All Chuck seemed to be was frightened and needy.

The typical teenage boy.

"She looked good," Chuck continued smugly, "didn't she?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Nate asked.

"I think you answered that question just fine."

Nate didn't know how his best friend was able to produce all of this smugness.

"She'll be at the party," Nate told him.

"Have you seen her new boyfriend?"

If Nate hadn't known any better, he would have thought that was bitterness in Chuck's tone.

"I thought you were having him checked out."

Chuck smirked. "All in due time."

"You've got a plan," Nate realized.

"He never stood a chance."

"Did you ever think of," Nate started, "I don't know, settling down with a nice girl?"

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Chuck asked. "Besides. Where would the fun in that be?"

"You really like this?" Nate asked. "Being torn apart at every turn?"

"It's Blair."

That was Chuck's answer.

"How long?"

Chuck shot him a questioning look.

"How long was it Blair?" Nate asked. "For you."

Chuck fidgeted with his tie. But to be fair, Nate didn't really know what he wanted to hear as an answer to that question either.

"She wants to cut out your heart and put it on a spike," Nate reminded him. But Chuck gave that self-assured smirk that made Nate even less assured.

"At least she's not ignoring me anymore."

"Chuck," Nate said. "She's mean."

Chuck didn't smirk this time. This time he was just looking at himself in the mirror and smiling a real smile. It worried Nate. But it also made him feel victorious.

Blair was wrong. Chuck did have a heart.

Though he expected she knew that already. There was a reason why she was spending her time on throwing a callboy in Chuck's face. And there was a reason that he cared.

"Yes," Chuck said, almost in a prideful way. "She's a cruel, conniving, beautiful, vindictive bitch."

"So did you tell her you love her yet?" Nate asked, finally able to administer his All-American grin.

Chuck's signature scowl returned.

"Get ready for the party, Nathaniel," he said darkly.

Blair was a cruel, conniving, beautiful, vindictive bitch. Just the way Chuck liked it. And just the way Blair liked Chuck.

**Spiral**

_Carter is not who you think he is. And I know you don't like to discuss this, but he wasn't the cause of my spiral._

"So."

It was sentences like those that Blair hated—particularly coming from her best friend's mouth. Blair looked up from her books at Serena across the bed from her.

"Yes?" Blair asked in irritation.

But she could tell that Serena expected something from her.

"You know you're not even supposed to be here," Blair reminded Serena. "You know how Chuck feels about you in the suite after you brought Carter to destroy his deal."

"How Chuck feels."

Blair remembered that tone and sometimes, her best friend could be a real bitch.

"Don't do that," Blair said coldly. "He owns the hotel. Don't act like he's being unreasonable after what happened."

"He can get other business deals," Serena said quietly. But Blair was looking at her in that way that made her uneasy. Like if she made one wrong move, she would lose her best friend to her stepbrother. And for some reason, that was one thing she didn't think she could handle. That was the one most terrible thing that she didn't think she could ever recover from.

Because she understood that Chuck knew Blair better than anyone. And she hated that she was jealous of him for that.

"Loyalty is the one thing that means more than anything to Chuck," Blair said. "Especially from the three of us. And you betrayed that."

"You know that I didn't mean-"

There was the sound of the door, and Serena knew without having to turn to look who had just walked in.

Chuck placed his briefcase on the floor, nothing but his blank eyes surveying the tense atmosphere. But his cold eyes left Serena's blue ones and returned to the person he had come here for to begin with. Serena watched in awe as his cold mask melted away as Blair smiled guiltily at him.

Chuck brushed her hair back and kissed her affectionately on the forehead. He pulled away, still staring into her eyes, stroking her hair.

"I should go," Serena said awkwardly, knowing that it hadn't been his intention, but Chuck had kicked her out of his house in his own way anyway.

Blair smiled encouragingly at Serena but said nothing as Chuck didn't even look back at her. The door closed softly behind her and Blair returned her gaze back to him.

"She's trying."

Chuck sighed, and Blair felt the coldness of neglect as he pulled away from her.

"She is," Blair insisted.

"I don't understand it," Chuck finally said.

"When two people feel for each other, nothing can really-"

"I meant you," Chuck said harshly. Blair sat back on the bed in surprise. Unsure of even how to proceed, she waited until Chuck turned his eyes to her own hurt ones. "Last week you couldn't wait to condemn Carter with me."

"Serena's happy," Blair said.

"Sure she is," Chuck said. "This week. But she never gave you the same courtesy before, did she?"

"And what courtesy would that be?" Blair asked stiffly.

"You know what I'm talking about," he replied. "Judging you when she first found out about us."

"She's not like that anymore," Blair said. "And maybe Carter has something to do with that."

"And what made you come to that conclusion?" he asked.

"She was right, you know," Blair said softly. At her tone Chuck was forced to look down at her gentle eyes. Finally relenting as only Blair could inspire, he sat down beside her. "You were worth the risk."

She could see his resolve wavering.

If only she hadn't spoken so soon.

"Serena feels the same way-"

But again she was rebuffed by Chuck shoving away from her.

"Don't do that," he warned. "Don't act like Serena and _Carter_ have something even remotely close to what we have."

"And what do we have?"

She always liked to test him, and it was the absolute one thing that he would never fail at.

"It's us, Blair," he said.

That seemed to be enough for her.

"The difference is that we deserve to be together," Chuck said. "But Carter can't be trusted."

"Can't you just let this go for Serena's sake?"

"Why do you have to do that?"

His tone was reaching angry levels that she couldn't recall from him since his father's funeral.

"Chuck," Blair said, trying not to let how his opinion of her hurt so much.

"He has wronged us so much and you are just as much a fool to his charms as Serena is."

He sounded so scornful, she was starting to think that he actually compared her to his stepsister.

"That's not how it is," she said.

"Then tell me how it is, Blair," Chuck snapped. "Are you going to go shoplifting again? Gallivanting around compounds, killing your reputation that you have worked so hard for? Drinking whiskey while Carter dresses in the background-"

"Stop it, Chuck."

At her simple but fierce command, he relented. He knew how irrelevant this argument was, but he couldn't help it. And he knew that he could anger Blair like no one else.

Carter Baizen wasn't worth it.

"You know what happened then," she said. "It wasn't Carter. I was going through a hard time and he was just there. It didn't mean anything."

"We're not talking about this," Chuck finally said gruffly.

"We have to talk about this," Blair said, knowing from her past failed relationships, that was the exact thing that they needed to do right now.

"No," Chuck said. "You know my feelings toward him. That much is clear. So we're not talking about it anymore."

"I never wanted him like that," Blair said. "He was just a stand-in."

"Don't."

"It wasn't like that with us-"

"Don't you understand?" Chuck asked. "I know all of that and I can't listen to it anymore."

"I'm just trying-"

"I was on my way to tell you I loved you," Chuck bit out sharply, interrupting her again. Blair fell short, but this time, it was for good. "That night you were out with him, I was on my way to tell you that I loved you. I would have eventually. But you were with him. So if for just this once, I don't want to talk about Serena's flavor of the month-"

"Okay."

Chuck broke off himself, calming down his tirade to look at her sincere eyes.

"Okay," Blair said again. "We won't talk about it."

His stiff body became pliant as she eased her hands around his neck, pulling him into a warm embrace. He exhaled into her hair, leaning his face into her neck. His breath was hot, and she had to bite back a smile because for the first time, she hadn't anticipated what was coming next.

"Chuck."

There were thousands of sentiments she wished to endow upon him, but his love for her was so sweet, words escaped her.

**Flawed and Fragmented**

_I know that our future will be just like us. Flawed and fragmented. And full of more love than I thought possible. I am so excited for you to be my husband._

It hadn't been the first time he thought about it. That was what scared him. When his father's discontent reached its peak over Chuck's disappointing behavior, he used to rationalize it with the idea that Blair Waldorf could be the only wife that would never bore him.

Things changed. Because he had set a diamond around her neck, and he didn't know why he wasn't frightened of her as he had been the previous night when he watched her crawl out of his limo.

Standing there, watching his stepmother and his apparent stepfather exchange vows, he knew that it hadn't been the first time he had considered it. He didn't remember the first time that he had, but he knew that every time he watched Blair Waldorf walk away from him, his own self disappeared along with her.

So he said it. He told her he loved her. Not because he knew he would lose her if he didn't, but because he did. The things he felt for her would never be eclipsed by anything. He was so selfish for her, that he knew there was only one way this could ever end.

And it was with her.

So he loved her. So he held her hand and offered to go to movies with her. He gave her dresses and jewelry because one day that dress would be white and that jewel would be on her left hand and he knew that.

It should have frightened him, but all he could do was stare.

He loved their little bets and banter because this time she would hold his hand in public and he didn't care giving it to her. He hated it when he saw her walking around with Humphrey but that jealousy just proved that when she let herself be enveloped in his arms, he wouldn't be able to let her go.

"Hi."

Humphrey faded away, and he couldn't help but grin because she was smiling at him again, completely unaware of the pretentious artist.

"You and I are really messed up."

The arms that were wrapped around his neck fell away sharply as she pulled away, confusion with coldness filtering through her eyes. Her hurt receded, though, because he was still smirking playfully.

"We're at a wedding," Blair said darkly. He knew what that meant to her. He knew to Blair, weddings were sacred, even if this was Lily's fifth marriage. Weddings affected Blair in the most profound way that Chuck knew as he looked upon her face as Lily recited her vows, this was where his life was headed.

And he wasn't afraid. He never would be again. Blair Waldorf was his salvation. Even if she didn't know the true extent of it.

"We spent the entirety of today betting on whether Carter would break Serena's heart or not," Chuck said. He kept his hands tight on Blair's waist, knowing how easily she could slip away from him. "And I love you."

She didn't move away, but she wasn't getting any closer like he would have liked.

"Lily's vows were quite..." Chuck began, gauging Blair's reaction, "moving."

"I suppose you could say that," Blair said, moving slightly closer to him. She let him wind his arms around her hips again. "For being composed in the moment."

"Sometimes those are the best," Chuck suggested.

"Please," Blair rolled her eyes, but they were swaying to the music again and it was alright. "I already know exactly what I'm going to say at my wedding."

"Do you?" Chuck asked curiously.

Blair's eyes widened and they both knew that they were wading in dangerous territory.

"Even before you know who you're going to get married to?" Chuck asked. "Don't you think that should be taken into consideration during your vows?"

"I already know who I'm going to marry," Blair said quietly. She refused to look him in the eyes, but he coaxed her lips apart with his own, and her breathy laughter filled him to the brim.

"So do I," he murmured into her hair. Her smile was vibrant, and Chuck was sure that she was only this way when she was with him. "Let's hope he's up to the challenge."

"He better be," Blair answered. "He knows how much I hate disappointment."

"Anyone with you knows what they're in for," Chuck said smugly.

"It appears that way," she said softly.

He kissed her fiercely. Because he knew where his life was headed, and he wasn't afraid of every flawed and fragmented moment.


	11. Enough About Eve Part I

**A/N**: To be honest, I'm anticipating a lot of backlash for this chapter. The last vignette isn't controversial per se, but Chuck kissing guys can get awkward. So I hope you read it with an open mind. I wrote it because I had to, because that was an obvious allusion. I tried to make it as painless as possible, because girl or guy, Chuck kissing someone who isn't Blair is awful, like Chuck said in the episode itself. Sorry I'm a little bit late, but FF was being impossible.

**Summary**: That was the moment. The moment she had to pull away because this was just a hunt, even if he was her favorite prey. So she stilled for a moment, relishing in the feeling of his arms wrapped around her, and the forbidden atmosphere of it. But she had to let go.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing is mine. Quotes and characters belong to GG, scenerios inspired by the franchise. Thanks so much to **comewhatmay.x**, who even though is pained by slash-as am I-beta-ed anyway. She's the best. Submitting this, it seems so tame compared to the awesome new promo. But it just reminds me how far Chuck and Blair have come, and how the producers must be heartless if they're going to not have them together as endgame. I have invested too much of my heart and soul into them. So here you go.

* * *

**Number Twenty-Seven**

_Number 27 on the TriBeCa Scavenger Hunt: kiss the Chuck Bass._

"She won't."

"She wouldn't dare."

"Not after everything-"

"Not after what he-"

"She won't do it."

Blair was only absentmindedly listening to her hens cluck at each other over drinks, but she rolled her eyes blatantly at Serena anyway.

"Are you quite finished?" Blair asked sharply, annoyed at Serena's inability to make eye contact with her.

Then again, everyone was aware of exactly what they were discussing. And ever since the previous year, Serena refused to be involved with Blair's endeavors.

"Nelly should decide," Penelope announced. "Her family does own half of TriBeCa anyway."

Blair knew better. In fact, they all did. They all knew that this was more of a hazing ritual than anything else. No one wanted to upset the Queen B. But that was exactly what was going to happen.

That was the assumption anyway.

"Nelly," Hazel said coolly. She always found such perverse pleasure in torturing projects ever since she was a freshman herself.

"And what has the tribunal deliberated?" Blair asked in her own bored tone, though she knew exactly what it was before the words even left her mouth.

"Number 27," Nelly said quietly.

"What was that?" Blair asked. "I didn't quite catch it."

Nelly was forced to look up and she spoke again.

"Number 27."

"Number 27?" Serena asked, finally able to pull herself out of her Cosmopolitan for more than two seconds.

"In the scavenger hunt, S," Blair sighed. "Try to keep up."

"What's number 27?" Serena asked the real question that had been weighing on her mind. But it was occurring to her that she really didn't need to ask. Because Blair was casting her steely gaze across the bar, and there was only one clear recipient of it.

"B," Serena said, holding onto Blair's elbow as she started forward. "You don't have to do this."

"It's the TriBeCa Scavenger Hunt, S," Blair stressed with the melodrama she was so well known for. But Serena could see the signs. She could knew how bored Blair could get, and the way she smiled whenever a certain name was mentioned.

She could tell by the way he looked at her.

And it never ended up well for Blair. That was always the problem.

"I thought you two were deciding to wait," Serena mentioned subtly.

"Remind me again why I deign to tell you anything," Blair drawled.

So Serena let her best friend slip through her fingers. Because when it came to Chuck Bass, there really was no contest.

"Waldorf."

"Bass."

His eyes were hot all over her, and somehow, she always felt vulnerable in front of him, even when he was the one sitting, and she was standing before him. It was the way he looked at her expectantly, eyes lingering on the hem of her skirt, traveling up slowly to her neckline.

It frightened her. But at the same time, gave her a thrill of relief and pleasure that he still held such desire for her as he had in the beginning.

"Haven't seen you in awhile," he mused, swilling his drink casually.

"Would that have something to do with preference?" she asked, hating how even now, he could make her so weak.

Finally, his eyes reached her own, and again she felt relief at his confusion.

"Meaning?"

"I'm sure you haven't been bending over backwards to grovel in my presence."

"No," he admitted, but succeeded it by leaning in secretively to her ear. "But I wouldn't mind seeing you in a similar position."

Blair pushed flirtatiously against his chest, fully aware that her best friend's eyes were permanently fixated on her back.

"Yeah?" she breathed. "Prove it."

Confusion clouded his face again, and she couldn't be more pleased.

"I was holding out for the holidays," Chuck said. "I know how much you've been anticipating the Snowflake Ball."

"That's not exactly what I meant."

She had admit; it was miraculous that they could even hear each other speak over the loud din of their surroundings. But it was producing the desired effect, and he was leaning in closer to her.

"And what is that?"

Somehow, he allowed her arms to circle his neck, never straying from her eyes.

"Forgive me," she whispered, before leaning in firmly. His body was still beneath hers for a moment, but before she could even consider pulling away, his hands were hot on her, crushing her against the table, apparently oblivious to the dozens of privileged teens surrounding them.

He broke away, his hot breath hitting her neck.

"No one can ever fault you for caving to your desires," he said into her hair.

That was the moment. The moment she had to pull away because this was just a hunt, even if he was her favorite prey. So she stilled for a moment, relishing in the feeling of his arms wrapped around her, and the forbidden atmosphere of it.

But she had to let go.

"Not what I meant either," Blair said easily, pushing him away. Anger and what she secretly suspected as hurt flashed across his face before she started hating herself. "You should be proud, Bass. You're number 27 on the TriBeCa Scavenger Hunt."

He gazed at her as she pulled away, but she should have known that it was never that easy with him. His grip tightened around her wrist before she could slip away, pulling her tightly back to him.

"You'll pay for that, Waldorf," he vowed seductively into her ear.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Blair taunted.

"I would advise you to get as many dates as you can for the ball," Chuck said. "Because I will thoroughly enjoy knocking down every last one of them. "

His smirk was dangerous.

"But not as much as I'll enjoy knocking you down."

Blair knew that she had done exactly what she had sworn to herself that she wouldn't do. She was encouraging him when they had promised each other that they just couldn't. But their primal instincts always bested the logic of their brain, even if it was logic that told her that the only reason that he was upset was because it was her. If anyone else had used him for a juvenile hunt, he wouldn't have cared. But Blair Waldorf was the only one to have ever kissed him with something real.

For a moment, she was afraid that she had sullied that sweet memory.

Then again, the way he had just touched her, she knew that she wasn't dreading what he had promised.

To the contrary, it was quite the opposite. And Chuck Bass always came through on promises such as those.

**Upset**

_Are you upset because you kissed a guy?_

_I'm upset because I kissed someone that wasn't you. You really think I've never kissed a guy before?_

Germany.

It was the last place he had expected and it was the last place he went. True, he had a collection of stockings and macarons in his luggage but it was also true that now she couldn't leave him.

Because no one could leave you weren't together in the first place.

That was the problem. That was how he found himself in a low class bar that smelled like beer, looking for a conquest so he could just forget. But when it came to Blair Waldorf, things never according to his meticulous plans.

It was getting increasingly more difficult. It had become his initial impression that all he would have to get was some foreign blonde who smoked hash to rid him of the disease that was spreading like a cancer through his brain. He wished he didn't relish that sweet death so much.

Soon, blondes were just becoming light brunettes, and blue eyes were just shades from dark brown. And that was what he was having difficulty with.

It was in Germany where he had decided he had had enough of it. He tried his best to be clean through the day, but it was at night where he dipped into his stash and found himself staggering around streets that he couldn't pronounce. He was sure he saw some girl take a picture of him with her camera phone, but he couldn't find it in himself to care.

The floor of the bar was suddenly seemed so very rickety as he tried to stumble to a sturdy surface.

"Careful."

Chuck felt strong arms around his shoulders that certainly did not belong to a woman trying to get off by the charming young American who obviously couldn't keep his balance for more than two seconds.

Chuck looked up to see that he had been led to the bar by the stranger with strangely unaccented English.

"You're not German," Chuck said bluntly. The man didn't seem fazed.

"No," he said. "I'm Blake."

Charming. He still couldn't get away from her.

Blake laughed at Chuck's determined stare at the bartop.

"I'm actually here studying abroad," Blake offered. "What's your excuse?"

"Just trying to forget."

"Let me guess," Blake said. "It's a girl."

That was when it occurred to him. The fact was that Blair was the most complicated, multi-faceted, beautiful woman that had ever existed.

This Blake was the exact opposite.

So he kissed him. For the sole reason that he didn't care that he was in Germany, completely drunk, and that Blair was miles away. Because all of those things were his fault. She was the only one to ever make him run.

And he just wanted to forget.

Until he was stopped.

He felt hands pushing on his shoulders gently, but also a bit consolingly.

Chuck couldn't help but feel a similar feeling of deeply seeded rejection. Because that was exactly how Blair made him feel with her calm words.

_It just happened._

And all he could think of was what just happened on New Year's while he was mourning his father.

And her.

"You're not gay," Blake announced.

"Are you?"

Blake just smiled.

"I was right, then," he said. "It is about a girl."

"She's not just a girl," Chuck said with disdain, hating how the words sounded on his own tongue.

"That's what they all say," Blake said.

"That's not what I meant," Chuck said. "It's about me-"

"Running from her," Blake amended and Chuck hated how he had found the one person in the entire bar that had the exact straightforward tendencies that she possessed.

Suddenly those two didn't seem so different as he had first anticipated.

"But not just her," Chuck continued. "I'm running from myself too."

"So you just go around kissing anyone in your path?" Blake asked with amusement.

Chuck shrugged. "You were the one person that didn't remind me of her."

"Didn't?" Blake asked.

"You shouldn't have told me your name," Chuck said. "Or spoken."

"What's her name?" Blake asked.

"Blair," Chuck said, but for the first time, the syllable didn't bring a pang of discomfort to his chest.

"She sounds beautiful," Blake said helpfully.

"Yes," Chuck said coldly. "Why does it matter to you?"

"Why are you running from her?"

"I didn't come here for a therapy session," Chuck snapped. "I came here to get drunk."

"Like you need it," Blake said. "I could smell you from across the room. But whether you came here for it or not, therapy seems to be what you need. So why are you running?"

"I found out she slept with my uncle," Chuck finally said out loud.

"Seriously?"

"It wasn't like I didn't deserve it."

He was finally admitting it to himself. Because what he did was fucked up. And what she did was fucked up. And yet, all he wanted to do was fuck her.

Until he realized that he loved her just as much.

"I did some... questionable things," Chuck finally said.

"Sounds like you deserve each other," Blake remarked.

"You could say that," Chuck mused.

"What does she think of you running to a foreign country?" Blake asked.

"Probably letting my uncle violate her again," Chuck said curtly.

"Why?"

"Because that's what I did to make her do it last time."

"Maybe she just wants you to stop running," Blake offered.

"So this is my fault?"

"What did she say to you to make you leave the first time?" Blake asked.

And that was the big question, wasn't it? And he knew the problem. He always had. But it was her own fault that she was willingly begging for her destruction.

"She told me she loved me."

"And you don't love her?" Blake asked. "Is that the problem?"

"No," Chuck growled angrily. "The problem is I love her more I should be capable of. And she deserves better."

"Why?"

"I love her too much," Chuck relented. "And it's going to destroy her."

"What about you?"

"It would be the best way to go," Chuck laughed. "I don't care. It would be worth it."

"She doesn't think so?"

"She doesn't know what she wants," Chuck said coldly.

"Who are you to say what she wants?" Blake asked. Chuck just glared. "What was the last thing she said to you?"

"I think you're getting too comfortable with your therapist persona," Chuck said.

"It seems to me like you want to talk about it."

"I don't," Chuck said. "I don't talk about my feelings. I'm just drunk."

"You're not that drunk."

"She slept with my _uncle_," Chuck said harshly.

"So why are you here wallowing about it?" Blake asked. "If you were really through with her, you wouldn't have bothered crossing the Atlantic to get away from her."

"She told me she loved me," Chuck said quietly.

"That's it?"

"And she knows that I love her," Chuck continued.

"Interesting."

"I don't think I'm drunk anymore," Chuck said contemplatively.

"Just out of curiosity," Blake said, "how many countries have you been to since you got to Europe?"

"Three," Chuck said. "Or more. I can't really remember."

"You should get her flowers or something."

"Flowers."

"Trust me," Blake said. "I know what I'm talking about. You leave for God knows how long and then return with some apology you composed on the plane home? You need to bring her flowers."

It was the plague of Blair Waldorf. She was so ingrained in his brain, that even in the presence of someone not remotely like her, reminded him of her.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Then again, he already had half of Pierre Hermé's inventory of in his luggage.


	12. Enough About Eve Part II

**A/N**: Didn't think I would get this out on time, but I did! My other fics have been so stressful, and it's nice to just sit down and do this for once. No slash this time, I promise ;)

**Summary**: He truly hoped Blair never realized the unfair advantage she had over him. Because he would never be able to deny her anything. Not now. Not ever again.

**Disclaimer**: Of course, all credit goes to comewhatmay.x who betas like crazy for the millions of things I send her. And of course, quotes and such got to my beloved GG.

* * *

**Always**

_Love me?_

_Always._

He never had any recollection of change. He was always too smug, too self-assured. And even when he found himself drowning in his obsessive desire for her, he knew it wasn't true. Because the truth was, he still hadn't changed. His feelings for her hadn't changed—the feelings of admiration and awe. The only difference was that instead of just thinking those things, she allowed him to act on them now. Maybe a little reluctantly at first, but ever since the night in the limo and the ones that had transpired afterward, all of her reluctance disappeared as easily as it had come.

That was the frustrating thing. From her bored eyes to her stupid perfection, he couldn't help but hate himself because he was starting to realize those feelings had always been there.

"Three words. Eight letters."

He had feared it so much. He had feigned ignorance because her gaze was just so trusting and he couldn't have that. He had feared her seeing who he truly was, even when she was the only one who had ever seen that person to begin with. He couldn't have her trust him too. Because he knew how he felt. He just didn't want to admit it. Because if she broke his heart again, he could get out. And he knew he would break her heart again too. He just couldn't help but hurt the one he loved.

He couldn't say it. Because then he would be truly doomed.

"Three syllables. Eight letters."

The way she looked so beautiful, her fevered breath hitting his lips. He had to convince himself that whatever had transpired that night was due to her jealousy. He had to believe that. Because when she ended the game, all he felt was the familiar rejection she always enacted whenever she was done with him.

But watching her lie there with her bored expression, all he felt was anxiety. He felt it then, but when he heard the real words come from her sincere mouth, all he felt was undeserving. He was falling apart and she deserved better than someone who loved her too much to realize the border between pleasure and pain.

"I want to be there for you."

"And why would you do that?"

"Because I love you."

It was the beginning of the end. The end where he could finally admit that there could never be anyone else for him.

And there never had been before.

"I love you too."

For the first time in his life, he knew he was exactly where he was meant to be. And nothing could be wrong ever again.

He said it once. He said it twice. He said it four times and now he just couldn't stop saying it. As though she would forget because now the only thing that he could keep her with was his love.

"Blair."

"Hm?"

It was the validation he needed. That she was still right next him. That she was still with him.

Her voice was drowsy in the dark, and he relaxed for a moment as her hand stroked his hair from his face.

"I love you."

Her arms wrapped around his neck and he settled back on his pillows, calmed by her bare skin pressed against his. Her light laughter was soft in his ear as she laid her face in the crook of his neck.

"I'll always love you."

At first, he wasn't sure if that was still in his head or he had said it out loud.

He was answered immediately as Blair sat up suddenly.

"Chuck."

He knew it was too fast too soon, but only to her. Because they weren't feelings that had changed in him. It had always been that way. It was just the first time that Blair knew it.

"Don't say it if you don't mean it."

That was exactly the opposite thing he had expected her to say. He sat up slowly, not needing even a light to know exactly what her expression was in the dark.

"Do you want me to mean it?"

"Charles."

He hated it when she said his name like that. The way Bart used to say it, with that exact same stern disposition.

"Don't do that," Blair said. "I thought we were past this."

Instinctively he grabbed onto Blair's wrist. But she wasn't pulling away. He just couldn't stop habits that died hard.

"I love you, Blair," Chuck said quietly. "Always."

His breath was taken away, and he relaxed into her embrace that never ceased to comfort him.

"We're not simple," Blair said against his mouth.

"We're not boring, you mean," he said. "Who wants to be simple?"

"We're not simple, Chuck," she said again. "And I know how possible it is that we'll break each other again. But I think I can be okay with it. As long as you don't stop loving me."

Her voice was secretive, but it was at that simple sentence that made him feel more relief and love than he ever thought possible.

So he kissed her.

Because months went by in instants. Because forever wasn't long enough to love her for.

**Refusal**

_Whatever you need him to do, do you really think he would have refused you?_

_No. He'd never say no. To anything._

He almost walked right by the bathroom. It wasn't because he was selfish (he was) or that just wanted to ignore it (he did). There was one reason, and one reason only, as to why Chuck almost forced himself to pass the bathroom echoing with sobs.

Blair Waldorf was crying in that room and he knew the moment he went to investigate, he would just be pulled in. He knew she wasn't doing what everyone on the Upper East Side would pretend that they didn't know she did.

Whether she knew it or not, Blair had a strong hold over him, and even after everything that had happened, he just couldn't help it. Those wide watery eyes—and it was too late because he had closed the bathroom door behind him and there she was.

For a horrifying moment, he couldn't help but suspect her. She was crumpled in the corner of the room, her black dress sparkling around her thighs. In an instant she sensed his presence, and when she looked up, his prediction was proven true. Her long hair curled around her shoulders, and when she forced herself to look away, hiding her face from him, he couldn't help but find her endearing.

"Hey."

He slid down the wall next to her, and she shifted uncomfortably away from him.

"Go away, Chuck."

"I didn't think you were coming," Chuck said, ignoring her.

"Serena asked me," Blair sniffed. "She didn't want to be alone. I didn't mean to encroach on your territory."

He wasn't sure if her voice was meant to be scornful or not.

"I just didn't think you'd-"

"Because of you?"

She had pivoted towards him suddenly, her eyes searing into his, and he was suddenly very aware of how her warm body was pressed against his.

Their gaze held for a long moment before they both looked away. He watched her bent head, focusing on the cream color of her headband. He wanted to stroke her hair away from her wet face.

But he knew he would be crossing the line they had drawn, no matter how much he regretted it.

"I'm so selfish."

He knew she wasn't speaking to him willingly. He was just there. But there was a side of him that had always been able to understand her more than anyone.

"Serena is having a breakdown and here I am crying in a bathroom."

Chuck knew that he had no right to say anything on the topic.

That didn't seem to suit Blair well, however. At his silence, her sharp eyes penetrating him, he felt as though he were being scanned.

"Why are you here?" Blair asked. "Planning to take advantage of my misery when the opportunity presents itself?"

"No."

But that was all he said.

"Everyone's selfish," he said after a moment.

"So what are you doing here?"

"Self-deprecation."

Blair narrowed her eyes at him, but after a moment she sighed in something that sounded a lot like defeat. He stiffened in surprise as he felt her head drop to his shoulder.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For not humiliating me this time."

Chuck had to move away this time. Blair let him go, looking at him with that unreadable expression that he was sure she used for his benefit.

"I don't understand you," she said after a moment.

"Me?" he asked in surprise. He was sure she was still holding a grudge because of that, but then again, so was he. They were both the most stubborn people and if it weren't for Serena, they wouldn't be speaking right now.

"Why did you come?"

"Which time?" he smirked.

"Chuck."

It was always something that got to him. The way she said his name to incur any reaction out of him. He just wished he could be strong enough.

Maybe strong enough for her.

If she would have him again.

But she wouldn't. And that was that.

"I asked for your help," she said. "And you didn't have to help me. You hate me."

"I don't," Chuck said. "You hate me."

"There are reasons."

He hated those words, but she was nearing him again and he felt the both of them relax.

"You could have left me," she whispered into his shoulder.

"No," he said. "I couldn't have."

She looked up in confusion, but he didn't know how to make it any clearer.

Not without revealing himself to an uncomfortable degree.

Her wide eyes were wavering and he had to laugh. Because she was just so unaware of what she did to him.

"You are going to have your husband wrapped around your finger," he said in amazement.

"Why didn't you torture me?" she asked. "Why didn't you just leave me hanging?"

"Because it's Serena."

"Oh."

He knew that was the exact wrong answer. She was shirking away from him and it was breaking his heart.

"And because it was you asking," he said reluctantly. But it made her eyes light up, and he would do anything to make her face do that again. "And you know..."

"I miss this."

It was a sudden confession, but he would be lying if he said he didn't feel the same way.

"Being this way with you."

But then the moment was destroyed. Because she looked so devastated at her own words that he had to wonder what his own face looked like.

She jumped to her feet, adjusting her tights in a manner that made her insecurity of her red knees clear. She hit the door of the bathroom and Chuck just sat there in stunned silence.

He waited several moments before pulling himself up onto his own feet. He straightened his tie in the mirror of the women's bathroom of The Palace before exiting.

Watching Blair with her best friend, he knew the exact reason why Blair had found herself on the bathroom floor. Because he felt that emptiness that made her push him away, making him insecure and volatile.

"Thanks for coming with me, B. I'm really not up to being social right now."

"Of course."

Blair looked behind her and her eyes locked with Chuck's for a split second.

Then Serena pulled her along and Chuck knew in an instant.

He truly hoped Blair never realized the unfair advantage she had over him. Because he would never be able to deny her anything. Not now. Not ever again.


	13. How to Succeed in Bassness

**A/n**: Thanks to you all who are still reading this. Writing this is what keeps me afloat when my Chair anxiety kicks in. This brings my CB love to life, because Chair is a film noir, and Blair is Chuck's femme fatale, except they are going to end up together.

**Summary**: The truth was, Blair was Blair. She was perfect and flawless. He knew that he was the only one to ever think of her in that manner. Men would come and go. Men would like, appreciate—even love her. But Chuck was the only one who deserved her.

**Disclaimer**: Quotes belong to the awesome Gossip Girl. And of course, **comewhatmay.x** saves my life by beta-ing it, especially during her busy schedule

* * *

**Trust**

_It's about you, Blair. It's the reason I couldn't tell you I love you. It's not a game. It's because I knew I couldn't trust you._

"Three words. Eight letters."

She was a vision in white. Her wavering dark eyes, pleading with him so desperately. He knew what was coming, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't help but pause, feigning ignorance and confusion.

Because he knew exactly what was coming.

"Say it and I'm yours."

He remembered the last time he saw Blair in white. Almost a year ago, Serena had come back from being on the lam, causing revenge to burning in the femme fatale's dark, glinting eyes.

Before the affair. Before the lying. Before the heartache. Everything was so simple when he would do anything for her. Destroy anyone just because she asked.

And yet, everything was the same. He would still do anything she asked of him.

Except this one thing. Because even as he feebly tried to force the words out, he knew it was no use. When it came to Blair Waldorf, he was always set up to fail.

"I..."

And he knew he was breaking her, yet again. He hated how it came so easy to him. He hated how it was just second nature. But she was pulling away from him, and he knew that there was no other alternative.

He had to confront everything. He had to confront the truth.

The truth was, Blair was Blair. She was perfect and flawless. He knew that he was the only one to ever think of her in that manner. Men would come and go. Men would like, appreciate—even love her. But Chuck was the only one who deserved her. Because it wasn't just her flawless facade. It was her imperfections that made them so close.

That was the exact reason why he couldn't say anything. She was so like him. And he knew there was nothing in himself that he could trust.

Especially when it came to Blair.

As far as he could remember, Chuck had never respected women. They were playthings—stupid toys that he used and discarded as he pleased. He hadn't realized it at the time, but Blair was something different. She had a different use. It wasn't the sex or her first time that united them. It was everything else. He hadn't recognized it as she winced when he first penetrated her, but it became all too clear as she stomped viciously on his heart, grinding it into the floor of the ballroom of The Palace Hotel.

Blair had the one power that no one on earth could dream of possessing. Blair Waldorf could break his heart without even a second thought.

And because of that, he couldn't trust her. It warred with the part of him that needed her so desperately—all of him.

Blair was too beautiful, too perfect, too _him _to trust.

"Thank you. That's all I needed to hear."

And because of that, he knew that he would love her until his heart gave out.

Because the fact that he couldn't trust her made him love her with every sociopathic, scheming, manipulative part of him.

**Power**

_It's hard to love a powerful man._

"Blair."

Lily Rhodes-van der Woodsen-Bass had known her daughter's best friend for almost two decades. Her friendship with Eleanor had passed through the generations, causing a relationship between the daughters that, at times, was as tumultuous as Lily's love life.

On more than one occasion had Lily seen her daughter with a fort of her covers over her head because of something her best friend had done. To be honest, Lily had never been surprised. Blair was a Waldorf. Never did a Waldorf show weakness or insecurity. Never had Lily seen a Waldorf cry.

Until today.

"Blair."

Nathaniel Archibald's voice was quiet under the lull of the wake for the late Bartholomew Bass. The elevator doors into the now cold penthouse closed behind flats tapping against the tile.

"Don't touch me."

Her voice cracked and Nate retracted for a moment.

And it was suddenly very clear how selfish Lily was being. She had been so wrapped up in blackmail, adoption papers, and infidelity that it never occurred to her that the next generation of the Bass empire was also going through something.

Not like this.

"I told you," Nate said, though his voice was soothing. "I told you. You should have just left him-"

"I said don't touch me."

Blair's voice had reached a slightly shrill volume, though the room of WASPs pretended not to notice. Nate let his hand fall from her arm.

"When exactly was the last time that you were there for him?" Blair asked.

Nate was at a loss for words and Lily knew there was a reason why no one had ever seen Blair Waldorf cry.

Blair stomped up the stairs that the heir to the Bass Dynasty had, not so long ago, treaded drunkenly to find a dossier with incriminating evidence.

Against her better nature, Lily found herself following the girl who she had never seen show an ounce of feeling. Everything within her told her to ignore it, like everyone else did.

But a part of her saw herself in the petite brunette. The self that had been so naïve to fall in love, just to find herself abandoned, divorced, or cynical.

Usually all three.

Lily Rhodes-van der Woodsen-Bass had never seen Blair Waldorf cry. But on the day of Bart Bass' funeral, that changed completely.

Wracking sobs echoed from the bathroom adjacent to her stepson's bedroom, and for a moment, she didn't want to enter. She didn't want to see heartache on a girl who seemed so independent and so headstrong.

So against her better nature, she did what she knew was right.

"Get ou-"

Blair's words were harsh, but she cut herself off as she saw the one person she didn't expect to see. Lily almost flinched at the sight of unrestrained tears making dark tracks of mascara run freely down her face.

But she just closed the door behind her, leaning against it, watching the young girl from her crumpled figure on the floor.

Blair just shook her head at her own apparent weakness, easing her shoes off of her stocking feet.

"I wasn't..." Blair finally spoke up. Lily was aware of the torment Blair inflicted on herself, and just nodded along, knowing that the young girl's protest was true. "You don't have to be here."

Lily knew it made Blair uncomfortable to be looked upon in such a state, and it was in that simple fact that she understood what this was all about. And who was the only person that could actually make Blair Waldorf cry like that.

"What did he say?" Lily asked.

"Who?"

Blair's voice was so deceptively innocent, and with such genuine confusion that Lily knew that wasn't a subject they would be talking about.

"You know my relationship with Bart wasn't exactly drama-free."

It did some sort of good, because as Blair looked up in surprise, it was clear that, if only for a moment, her pain had abated.

"But I must admit it was sudden."

Blair's eyes were blank and Lily didn't know what the teenager was thinking, so she just continued.

"Loving a powerful man is hard," Lily said. "You are seduced by the money, the privilege, the opportunities. But that doesn't protect you from the heartache."

"I don't know what you're suggesting," Blair said darkly.

"Charles left in the middle of the wake," Lily said. "And he didn't come back."

"Did you ever think there was a reason he openly attacked you at the funeral?" Blair asked.

"Do you?"

"He is going through something," Blair said, "and it's foolish of you to think that you're the one who's hurting the most. It was his father. His father, who never respected nor approved of him. You may have closure. But Chuck never will."

"What makes you think I have closure?" Lily asked.

"Because Chuck is drowning in himself," Blair said. "Lashing out at those who he cares about. And you're here comforting me because you think it's just that simple."

"Charles wasn't the only one lashing out," Lily noted. Blair sighed, standing on shaky legs.

"There's a difference between you and me," Blair said. "I'm sorry. But you're right. You married Bart because of the wealth. You loved him because he provided. I love Chuck because he's Chuck."

Blair padded lightly past Lily, exiting the room with as much dignity as that proud girl could muster. Watching her, Lily knew she was right. She did love Bart. And Blair was crying on the floor of a bathroom because of a broken heart.

But as much as it was hard to love a powerful man, it was even harder to love a powerful woman. And Chuck loved Blair.

Because watching her stepson sneering with information bought from a PI, Lily knew exactly what she was saying.

"Don't turn away from the people who love you. They are the only chance that any of us have."

And Lily knew exactly where Chuck went when he left the penthouse that night.

**Condolence Flowers**

_Heartfelt. Earnest. Let me guess. You found out the liquor license you so thoughtfully procured was a fake._

_You already knew? Did Jack send you condolence flowers too?_

**Liquor license done. Consider us even.**

In the small increment of time between Jack's—strictly business—message, and the moment when her plan fell in shambles around her, Blair should have realized her mistake. Because when it came to the subject of the Basses, she could never think clearly. That much was certain upon her first meeting with Jack Bass and her drunk relinquishment of sanity in his presence. That much was certain in her willingness to gift Chuck her virginity.

The fact was, when it came to winning, Blair would do whatever it took. By any means necessary. It was her weakness, and her weak will subjected her to enlist the only blood relative Chuck had left—which resulted in disaster.

Blair could never think clearly when it came to the Basses. But the truth was, she could never think clearly when it came to Chuck. Her complete desire to do anything to help him always landed her in places she never wished to be. By now, she should have realized that Jack would always take advantage of that. Because although he would never admit it, Jack could never think clearly when it came to Chuck either. His desire to completely destroy him wholly would always encompass everything else.

_"How did you get this number? Not that I'm complaining. You know how I miss our little talks. Like the one last New Year's, for example."_

"You know I would rather consume my own young than ask you for a favor."

_"But something has driven you into my arms."_

"Please. Over phone lines is enough for me."

_"So what is that you need from me, Gorgeous?"_

"A liquor license. That's it."

_"This sounds like a favor for-"_

"It doesn't matter who it's for. As far as you're concerned, you're doing this for me."

_"You know how I so enjoy doing anything for you. Speaking of which, how is my nephew doing?"_

"Splendid. Opening a new club, if you must know."

_"And it all makes sense."_

"You owe me, if you recall. Don't make this some vendetta about him."

_"And why would I care about debts that I'm doubtful even exist in the first place?"_

"You know it is a good thing Lily didn't press charges. Or you'd be rotting in a jail cell somewhere on Staten Island right about now."

_"Am I to assume that I owe that to you?"_

"No. You owe the fact that Chuck didn't find out about depraved acts on New Year's—which I will never speak of again—until after you left the country. Otherwise you wouldn't be in so much of a prison cell, but a body bag."

_"He loves you that much, does he?"_

"Will you do this for me or not?"

_"I will. But only because I'm so fond of you."_

"This is the last time we'll speak. Don't try and call me. Ever."

_"Your wish is my command, Gorgeous."_

It was while sitting in her dorm in front of flowers that she wished so much were from Chuck did she curse her naivety. Jack was vile and corrupted, and she should have known better.

Then again, she would do anything to help Chuck.

"These aren't from Mr. Chuck," Blair snapped as Dorota recoiled. Blair threw the card across the room before beginning to rifle through her drawers for her thigh highs.

The card fluttered to the ground, giving her a sense of fearful foreboding.

_My apologies for deceiving you, Gorgeous. But you know better than to trust me when it comes to my nephew. And please take solace in the fact that even if dear Charles leaves you, my bed is always open and inviting._

_-JB_


	14. The Grandfather Part Two

**Summary**: Even though she deserved so much better than him, they deserved each other. And the very real threat that the love of his life might possibly never look at him again, might end up married to some doctor, was more than he could bear.

**Disclaimer**: Quotes belong to GG. Thanks again to my beta comewhatmay.x.

* * *

**Surveillance**

_Blair's favorite part: real-time surveillance playback. It's naughty._

Nate never thought about it much. It wasn't that he didn't care. She had been his girlfriend for almost half a decade. But the second she pulled away from him at prom, it was something he just accepted. He was even less surprised when he saw his ex seduce his best friend into the back room.

It wasn't that he didn't care. It was just a fact he had accepted.

That being said, it wasn't something he wanted to witness with his own eyes either.

Nate had only slept with Blair once. At the time, he had thought her frigidity had more to do with her virginity than anything else. And then he realized that was the exact opposite of the true problem.

So as Nate stood in front of his best friend's surveillance screen, he couldn't help but be strangely intrigued. The grainy screen had no volume, but Nate could pretty much tell what was happening in the elevator on its way up.

Nate had thought he and Chuck were going to actually hang out for the first time since he returned from Europe. It had never occurred to him that their roles were to be reversed. This time it was Nate whoring himself while Chuck had the steady girlfriend.

And that steady girlfriend had been shoved up against the wall of the elevator the way she never let Nate do to her. The elevator doors opened and if Nate hadn't been wondering why it didn't bother him that much, he would have thought to turn off the screen.

At least, that's what he would like to believe. Truthfully, he had never been that quick on his feet.

"Nate."

Blair's voice betrayed surprise, but looking at her, he wished he hadn't. Chuck detached himself from her neck, and Nate watched in surprise as he gripped her sharply.

"_What_?"

Nate was speechless at the tone of anger in Chuck's voice, but Blair put him in his place, shoving him away.

"Tone down the testosterone, Bass," Blair said sneeringly. "Your best friend is actually present."

Chuck turned around. However, his eyes didn't make contact with Nate's, but looked right behind him. Nate turned as well, seeing the television screen that still displayed the inside of the elevator.

"So," Chuck smirked as Blair rolled her eyes. "My best friend has become something of a voyeur."

Blair's smile was tight and Nate could tell that in situations like these, she would just humor her boyfriend.

And it was at his cousin's political celebration that he had to hold his tongue.

"Real-time surveillance playback."

Nate didn't answer, just smiled uncomfortably. If Chuck wanted to throw it in his face, he would allow him. Because it wasn't that he didn't care about his ex-girlfriend and his best friend. He was just glad that the two of them were finally happy.

**Waldorf Subtext**

_The reason Blair attacked you is because she misses you. Don't tell me after eighteen years you can't read Waldorf Subtext. _

As far as Serena was concerned, her only interaction with Chuck was due to the fact he was her future stepbrother. And even that was shaky. She knew exactly what he had done to her best friend, and it was the best friend's job to hate any man that ripped her apart.

Though she couldn't exactly admit that she understood why Blair cared. Chuck was Chuck, and someone as smart as Blair should have seen it coming. Even so, Serena wanted to protect her best friend against the cruel devil that took pleasure in causing misery.

Serena had to protect Blair.

Until she realized that maybe she didn't have to.

"Well, well. If it isn't the dowager princess."

"I believe you've got your references confused, Bass. Catherine of Aragon was only a queen through marriage."

"But she was dethroned quite easily."

"By a lascivious, womanizing, lecher if I recall."

Standing behind the wall of a party, Serena fought her instincts to rescue her best friend. She knew that the two of them did everything they could to avoid each other. And that included social obligations. Chuck usually liked to keep under the radar, which was why it surprised Serena that he'd shown up that night.

Then again, she did remember running into Chuck earlier that night, just outside of her room—right after a conversation with Blair that included the details of a certain party.

That was what worried Serena. Blair had no idea what Chuck's motives were. And neither did she.

Serena couldn't help herself. She couldn't help but hide discreetly behind the corner, wondering if Blair knew any more about motive than she did.

Then again, she was Blair Waldorf.

"You dethroned yourself," Chuck said coolly. "You could have refused me any time you wanted."

"I wasn't the one that sent the blast," Blair retorted. "That was all you."

"You can't prove it."

"Other than the fact that you were the only one who knew and you always know exactly how to hurt me?" Blair challenged. "It wasn't like you denied it."

"It's a gift," Chuck said nonchalantly. "You can't expect me not to use it."

"You think so?" Blair asked. "Well I have a gift too. And you know how I get when I've been scorned."

"Hell hath no fury."

"Just out of curiosity," Blair said, "have you seen Jenny Humphrey lately?"

"Why would I care about Little Jenny Humphrey?" he snorted.

"As it turns out, she happened to be the gay beard for Eric van der Woodsen's boytoy," Blair said. "But you're right. Those who have scorned me have nothing to worry about."

Serena heard a lapse in the conversation and was pleased with her friend's strength. It was something that she could never understand—how Blair could be so cold after everything that had happened. But in this case, she was glad that Chuck was taken aback.

"Did I ever tell you how sexy you are when you attack me?"

Then again, he was Chuck Bass. And for a moment, Serena had to wonder if Chuck's crime was more a crime of passion than a crime of disdain.

"You think after everything you've done that is actually going to work?" Blair laughed. "You know me better than that."

"And you know me," Chuck said. "You know how much I value retribution above all else. And you're right. You always did have a talent for destruction, even if you are using it against me."

"Oh, Chuck," Blair sighed. "Nothing you do will save you now."

There was silence, but Blair's heels clicked against tile and Serena knew to fall away. But Blair turned sharply into the bathroom and Serena had to worry. She finally looked down the hallway to see Chuck leaning his head against the wall. She was about to turn away when she suddenly caught something. There was a smirk corrupting his features and Serena felt her stomach churn. Because Chuck obviously understood something that she didn't.

And it pleased him.

Chuck opened his eyes finally to turn his head and before Serena could think to move, he caught sight of her. His face dropped and he started to scowl before she made her leave. Chuck's motives were becoming more and more unclear, and that was what caused her to trail immediately after Blair. But upon opening the door, Serena saw something that she hadn't exactly expected.

"B," Serena said in surprise, pulling Blair into a comforting embrace. "Why are you crying?"

"Don't worry about it," Blair smiled tightly, starting to redo her make-up. But there was an underlying subtext to her words that Serena wasn't sure she had heard.

_You wouldn't understand._

And Serena really did have to wonder if Chuck knew her best friend better than her or not. Or exactly what motives were driving them at all.

**Too Late**

_You think your friendship is going to take care of itself. You're not kids anymore. You can't say you hate each other and then make up an hour later on the Met Steps._

_You tell her that._

_I'm telling you. And you should be careful. Because one day you'll find yourself telling people about Blair Waldorf. The girl who used to be your best friend._

"And how do you feel about me?"

It was something that Chuck Bass could no longer hide from himself. And to be honest, he had been waiting. He had been waiting so long for this exact moment, that his breath caught in his throat.

Blair was standing before him, her dress hooked around her heels, her torso in his hands, almost pressed against him, and he knew he had been waiting for this moment. The minute she had walked into Nathaniel's party, he felt his heart thrum and his adrenaline jack. He cursed the small blonde that impeded his gratification, stalling Blair in the jacket that concealed exactly what he had been waiting so long to enjoy again.

And as she passed, her hand gracing his shoulder in that sultry way she had perfected, he knew that this was the night. It just had to be. Leading him into a sort of parlor with only a couch, he didn't care. He didn't care that her_ 'I want to talk' _was so transparent. It just gave him an opening to husk his '_I prefer to talk after,'_ and as soon as he had sat on the couch expectantly, relishing her once again, he watched while she slid her dress down her body.

Instead of the virginal white slip he had seen more than a year ago, she was decked in black, and he couldn't help but smooth his hands over the thigh highs that she offered him.

"How do you feel about me?"

He was going to say it. He truly was. It was the excitement and his very apparent arousal straining for her that stopped him for a second. But it was a second too many, because his phone vibrated, and once again, the love of his life had broken his heart.

She had always been so apt at it, especially when she wasn't even trying. So standing there, as she pleaded her case, he couldn't do it. The words had been so ready to spill from his lips, but she had broken him. So even after she placed her hands imploringly on his face he had to push her away after her begging question.

"Tell me it was for something."

And he told her something he had thought had been true at the time.

"Maybe it was. But it's not anymore."

He had been so ready to say it. But he hated her. He hated for betraying him. He hated that she could hurt him so much, like no other woman ever had before or ever could.

That he was sure of.

So he stood before the Oak Room, watching her downcast face as she conversed with his stepsister, and his heart broke again. Because she looked up at him. She looked at him in the way he had been waiting for, but all he could do was walk away.

All he could do was run because she scared him so much. She frightened him because this felt final.

This felt like the end.

He was in Europe. Alcohol was consumed because he just couldn't bear the thought of those big eyes of hers, welling up because of him. He didn't even have to say anything and he could break her just as easily as she could break him.

He knew of Serena's fear that everyone would hate her. He knew how her ex-boyfriend/pseudo stepbrother wanted to discard her like she used to discard all of those conquests. And he knew that frightened her.

Everyone was leaving. Going to college, and starting their lives. And staring at the window display of Pierre Hermé, he understood that too. He wasn't going to college. He was building his empire. And Blair was relocating to the Village. He would be lucky if he saw her at all, save for awkward social functions.

That scared him more than anything else. That scared him more than her liaison with Jack and how much she could hurt him. Because when she was hurting him, at least she loved him. They weren't nine anymore, where he could push her and she would just sneer back, ready for retribution.

She could actually leave him without a moment's hesitation. She could get married to some Yale grad and have perfect blonde children. And she would never think about him again.

That was worse. That was a life without Blair Waldorf. And that was a life of torment.

"Why aren't you in Europe?"

Her voice was flat, with a little touch of anger, and he loved her for it. If he had to, he would spend the rest of his life making it up to her, because a life without her wasn't a life at all. This was what they were supposed to be.

Standing in Europe, with all of the unsanitary brothels and opium dens, he couldn't help but think of her. Because even though she deserved so much better than him, they deserved each other. And the very real threat that the love of his life might possibly never look at him again, might end up married to some doctor, was more than he could bear.

"I love you too."

Because this was it for them. And he was never looking back.


	15. They Shoot Humphrey's, Don't They Part I

**A/N**: Sorry for the delay, faithful readers. I have already had one report of dismay at my late update. Unfortunately, I have been so stressed the past two weeks and I don't get credit in school for writing CB (sadly) that this is a bit late. That being said, I hope you enjoy now that I can get back on track with what is really important. True love. :) So here's the next chapter, a celebration signaling the finish of my horrid project.

Summary: He knew that she still felt rage for him in her heart, even if he was positive that lay side by side to her passion for him. Then again, that was always a small distinction.

Disclaimer: As per usual, nothing belongs to me. Quotes and such are GG. And as always, thanks to my beautiful beta **comewhatmay.x**.

* * *

**Surprise**

_I have a surprise for you._

_In that case, why are you still dressed?_

_That was yesterday._

At first, he was worried. As he walked into the penthouse that night, he found it strange that her heels were strewn so haphazardly across the floor.

Then he was incredibly turned on.

He knew Blair Waldorf. He knew how neurotic and meticulous she was with her things.

Blair Waldorf would not leave her clothes in the middle of the room.

Unless, of course, she had kicked them off while dressing in her most expensive lingerie. Because as Chuck stared into the center of the room, that was exactly what had happened.

"You're home early."

It was laughable how much ire laced her words. Her hands were propped on her hips as she scowled down at him.

"Funny you say that," Chuck drawled, making it no secret the way his eyes traveled up her form. "Because it is customary that when I find you in such a position, you are far happier to see me."

"You ruined the surprise."

"This was a surprise?" Chuck asked. He couldn't help but smile, feeling flattered. "This is surprising."

"That I'm making an effort?" Blair said crossly.

"That look on your face," he said so softly, that they found themselves gravitating towards each other.

Like always.

"What's wrong with my face?" she asked, and he knew they were back to teasing. He reached for her, smoothing away the fury from her brow.

"That's better," he smirked. "I must say, you fighting with Serena is the best thing that ever happened to me."

"And why must you say that?"

He pulled at the ties holding her corset together.

"Because I come home to find you like this," he said. He waited with anticipation to see her clothing drop, but she held the pieces of fabric together. "And I like finding you here all alone."

"How much?" she taunted.

"Do you really need me to prove it?" Chuck asked. "Don't you know me?"

"I'd like to know you more," Blair said teasingly, prodding him backward, further into the room.

And she let go of the ties, letting the rest of her encumbering lace fall to the floor.

**Daddy Issues**

_Do you really think I want to spend my weekend watching women with tramp stamps working out their daddy issues? It's for Nate._

He recognized that look on her face. It was something she didn't think he ever noticed, but he was positive that he was the only one who did. It was just a split second, but it was one second enough.

Blair Waldorf detested her best friend.

Not in the way that she detested Chuck Bass, nor the way she detested anyone from Brooklyn. It was in seethingly jealous way, and in that second, Chuck allowed himself to acknowledge that he missed her.

But that same second had elapsed and both Blair and Chuck were standing exactly where they had been when she walked out of a bar with tears in her eyes, and her tarnished crown discarded on the floor.

Blair was weak. Chuck knew it was true, and so did Blair, but he understood that they didn't think of it in the same way. Blair was weak in the way that she didn't realize her perfection, needing to latch onto his blonde soon-to-be-stepsister for just a taste of the light.

But she didn't need it.

He understood this enough to know that look on her face. The jealousy as Serena walked into the Lincoln Hawk concert, her expression one of pure joy due to the fact that she could speak to Dan again.

It was in that way, Chuck knew Blair was jealous. She loved her best friend, and would do anything to help her, but it was clear that Blair hated how Serena could float so easily along, while Blair struggled to keep up with the current.

"He wouldn't. Dan's too good."

It was in that second when Serena's face fell and more tears came did Blair forget all about her jealousy.

In retrospect, it all made sense. Considering that not even an hour ago, a devilish smirk of her own had seduced him back to her side, and he couldn't help but remember the vulnerability he always seemed to catch her in.

"You must be loving this."

Chuck's eyes slid to hers in confusion, always confounded at how easily she could throw him. Not moments ago she had convinced him to take a ride with her to Brooklyn in the easiest fashion.

_What would you say if I told you I know where Georgina Sparks is right now?_

Then again, there wasn't much convincing needing to be done.

_I'd say let's get the bitch._

"Pardon?"

It was in his best interest to be polite at the moment. He knew that she still felt rage for him in her heart, even if he was positive that lay side by side to her passion for him. Then again, that was always a small distinction.

Blair cast him a look of disdain.

"Rushing to Serena's rescue," Blair sneered.

"Why am I loving this?" Chuck asked with sincere confusion.

Blair leaned back against the leather seat of the limo, causing Chuck's eyes to stray to the skirt riding slightly up her thighs.

"Please," Blair rolled her eyes and he hated how she thought so low of him, especially when he didn't even deserve it. "You love _Cruel Intentions_. Gaining the trust and love of your stepsister."

"Blair-"

"Everyone loves Serena," Blair said coldly.

"Blair," Chuck snapped icily this time. He had always felt felt short of breath in her presence—like sharp pains cutting through his chest. "You think I actually want Serena?"

"I know you saved her the night before she missed the SATs," Blair said. "You just can't help yourself. No one can."

"I'm rather insulted you think so little of me," Chuck said. "Serena is a blonde attention-whore who doesn't realize, or even care, what her actions do to others. I have better things to do than look after my slutty stepsister with daddy issues."

"That's my best friend," Blair pointed out and Chuck had to laugh at how fast Blair's loyalty could switch in a snap. "But if this is so beneath you, why are you here?"

"Because she's family," Chuck said. "And you asked me to."

Blair's face fell and he was triumphant that he was the one to catch her off-guard this time. The limo came to a direct halt and the door opened to reveal Nate.

"Am I interrupting something?"

His voice was cold and uncaring, but Blair didn't take her eyes off of Chuck. Slowly, she slid towards him to make room for Nate.

Chuck enjoyed the entire ride with Blair's leg against his.

Not that he'd do anything to show it.

**Ballroom**

_The other girls have been taking ballroom for years._

"I'm getting tired of this."

"Don't think yourself so special, princess. You're not the only one."

Blair loved the life she lived. She loved the city and all the opportunities it offered her. But as of right now, this was the fourth time she had attended ballroom lessons with Chuck Bass' hand on her waist, and she had just about had it.

"I have an escort you know," Blair said in annoyance.

"Do you?" Chuck drawled. "I wouldn't have guessed, considering your so-called escort hasn't been able to make a commitment since the spring."

Blair could always tell. There was an underlying threat in Chuck's words and she didn't like it. There was always that sneaking suspicion. She and Nate weren't like they used to be. They hadn't been in a long time. And Chuck was always there, smirking and making snide comments.

And having to be her partner for ballroom lessons.

"If my Cotillion is ruined because of you-" Blair warned.

"You think I really want this?" Chuck asked. "Don't flatter yourself. I would much rather be practicing with some floozy-headed blonde who will go down on me at the end of the night."

"Will you please have some tact?" Blair wrinkled her nose.

"Oh, I forgot," Chuck said. "I'm in the presence of a lady."

"Goddamn right, you are," Blair muttered. She felt him still for a moment before they continued their waltz.

"I forgot how fun you can be, Waldorf."

She looked up in surprise to see Chuck Bass was actually smiling at her.

"You should show your bitch more often," Chuck continued. "It's so much more entertaining."

"How can I do that, and still remain the perfect vision of propriety?" Blair asked. "They are sort of contrasting images, you know."

"Why do you have to pretend at all?" Chuck asked. "I like you this way."

"Nate doesn't."

"You shouldn't have to change yourself for him," Chuck said. "Especially when he couldn't care less."

"Yes he does," Blair snapped.

"I'm sorry," Chuck mocked. "That must have struck a nerve."

"Well stop it."

"You like our banter," Chuck answered. "And I don't know why you're complaining so much. You should be downright ecstatic that Serena ditched town."

"Maybe you don't know the definition of friendship, but that usually doesn't include ecstasy when one disappears without telling her _best friend_."

"Someone's bitter," Chuck said with amusement. "And I will be more than willing to watch you deal out her just desserts when she returns."

"If."

"When," Chuck corrected. "But now you have dear Nathaniel's attention all to yourself. You should be more positive."

"Like you so dutifully pointed out before," Blair said, "I don't see Nate anywhere."

"That's alright," Chuck said. "I'm starting to see the silver lining of being your escort."

"You are not my escort," Blair said. "You're just the stand-in."

"For now," Chuck said. "But sooner or later, you're going to realize that am I just more athletic than Nathaniel."

"Athletic?" Blair laughed. "Please."

"Poised, then," Chuck corrected. "The balance I possess is something that only comes with years of training balancing over vulnerable women."

"You're disgusting."

But she was laughing. And for some reason, he liked that.

"Don't laugh, Waldorf," Chuck warned. "I have a very steady stance. There will be girls begging on their knees to have me as their escort."

"And how is that different from any other Saturday night?" Blair asked lightly. Chuck looked down, making sure she knew what she was saying before giving a laugh of his own.

"You are a devil in disguise."

"You say that like it's a compliment," Blair scoffed.

"It is."

Their instructor finally clapped her hands, and the piano cut off, signaling the end of the lesson.

"You do have to say this for us."

Blair looked up to see Chuck's reflection behind her in the wide expanse of mirror.

"We look very good together."

"Yes," Blair said distantly. "Yes, we do."


	16. They Shoot Humphreys Don't They Part II

**A/N**: So... the problem I'm having with the finale is that they made it look like the end. I'm fine with Blair and Chuck separating to find their own way, but when I start hysterically crying, I find that troubling. We also don't know who the test belonged to, or the paternity. So I don't know if I see myself continuing on next season when everything looks so bleak. I wouldn't want my ship to be together out of obligation, so I'm not really sure what to do. That being said, yes, I am going to finish Reminiscence. However, I am still unsure if I will make a 4th season of Allusions. For those of you who are overly emotional as I am, I hope this helps to soothe your suffering. I also wrote this before the Louis thing even happened, so any references to the marriage between Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf is something I will always stand behind.

**Summary**: Chuck looked charming. She hated that. She hated his white bowtie, gloves and sparkling tux. Because Nate actually had to ask how to match a tie to a dress.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing belongs to me. Quotes and pretty much everything else is all GG. Thanks to the amazing **comewhatmay.x**. She beta-ed and her favorite vignette was the last one :)

* * *

**Escort**

_Do you remember who my escort was?_

_Nate._

_Jenny, when you descend those stairs tomorrow night, everyone there will judge you on that moment for the rest of your life._

"You looked pretty hot on Princess Theodore's arm today."

He had to insult him. He was the escort of the girl that was supposed to be with him.

"Is that all I am to you? Just an accessory?"

She had to banter with him. He couldn't know the very real feelings for him she was attempting to suppress in vain.

"On him, yes. On me you could be so much more."

Because he desired nothing more than to be seen with her in public.

And that was always the problem. That would always be the problem.

It wasn't something Chuck had foreseen. All he felt was the selfish need to deflower the Virgin Queen, and then be with her just one more time. But then that second time became a reluctant third and then an encouraging fourth, until suddenly, it was just too late.

And suddenly they were waltzing for a debutante ball, and he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. Suddenly he was jealous. Suddenly he was glaring at princes and his own best friend.

Suddenly, he was in too far over his head.

And he could never go back again.

"The Prince will understand."

He couldn't help but hate her a little. He knew he was feeling things that a Bass was never supposed to feel, but he still hated her. He hated her for her weakness, and he hated her for still wanting a terrible boyfriend who cheated on her.

"What?"

Blair hated that dead look in his eyes. She didn't know what it meant. The same way she never understood him when he would kiss her softly, or brush her hair from her face. The same way that she had no idea what was happening. She felt things that she had never felt before.

Nate was easy. Nate was familiar. Nate wasn't dangerous, conniving, or looking at her accusingly.

"Nate," Chuck said.

"We're just going as friends."

"Why?" Chuck asked. "We could have gone as friends."

"That's different."

"Because we're sleeping together?"

Blair couldn't help but stare. She had never heard Chuck Bass so openly vulnerable.

So she didn't answer. They did what they always did when they had to avoid feelings. They kissed. Because whatever this was, she couldn't acknowledge it.

She was too weak to fall for someone right now.

"Blair Cornelia Waldorf. Escorted by Nathaniel Archibald."

Chuck looked charming. She hated that. She hated his white bowtie, gloves and sparkling tux. Because Nate actually had to ask how to match a tie to a dress.

Chuck was just standing there. He was smirking at her and he was holding her in his arms.

So she asked.

"Where's Nate?"

"Nate was asked to leave. But here I am."

It was in that moment she realized why she needed Nate.

"I know that look. That's the look when your plan falls into place."

Nate was easy. Nate was familiar. But Nate was also predictable. Nate was thought of as the golden boy just because he was. Because for a split second, when Chuck stared up at her imploringly, she had almost said yes. She had almost kissed him, had almost wanted to be seen on his arm, because suddenly, that's where she felt she was meant to be.

But Cotillion would only happen once. Nate was her White Knight. But Chuck was the Dark Prince, and as much as she hated to admit it, she was a Princess. She wished she didn't. She wished she could be rescued. But Chuck took her to emotional depths she didn't know were possible, and she hated him for it.

"This thing between us. It's over. For good."

It was the only thing she could do. It was her compromise.

"Blair," Nate said in relief. "I was looking for you."

"I know."

It was the only thing she could think of doing. Because if she was going to end up playing the Stepford Wife, she might as well commit to it now.

Nate was pretty. Nate was dumb. Nate didn't notice the difference between two girls that weren't virgins when one of them should have been.

Chuck always noticed.

So Blair chose Nate for the last time. Because for the first time, he didn't act like a gentleman. She thought about him punching Carter, because even though he didn't, it could have been something that Chuck would do for her.

**Wedding**

_This is not like your wedding day. Cotillion only happens once. _

Blair liked to think herself as realistic. Of course, it hadn't always been that way. In fact, it was due to a fairly recent development that she didn't allow herself to be dragged into her romantic fantasies. With her first boyfriend, it had always been that way. She would dream of the day when she would become Mrs. Nathaniel Archibald. Even after he broke her heart, still practically slobbering over the glamorous blonde next door, she had remained optimistic. Their road may have been full of obstacles, but when two people were meant to be together, love always prevailed.

Then again, that only happened when the two people were actually in love with each other. That was the moment that the harsh reality made itself very clear to Blair.

"Do you love me?"

She never thought she would actually have to ask that question. He was her boyfriend of almost four years. He should love her by now. But it was very apparent that if he didn't love her now, he never would at all.

"You should be with your father. He needs you. You know what? I don't."

It was that simple. It was that easy. As easy as her, in fact. Because sashaying right up to her _ex_-boyfriend's lecherous best friend's club twenty minutes after a break-up wasn't something she should have done.

She learned that very quickly. As quickly as he broke past her barrier, her biting back a gasp of sudden unexpected pain in the process.

That was the moment she lost all sense of romanticism. It wasn't how she imagined it at all. She had just left who she thought to be her future husband and was currently being violated by his best friend. This wasn't romantic at all.

Until Chuck Bass did something she never expected.

"I'm sorry."

Blair was prepared to fake a reaction through this one. But Chuck was suddenly looking down at her, softness in his eyes as he brushed her hair away from her face.

"I didn't want to hurt you."

Before she could even respond, he pressed—what she could only describe as—a loving kiss to her mouth, moving slowly in something she had previously attributed to soothing. But Chuck Bass wasn't soothing.

Even as he gently stroked her skin, making her forget about the already fading pain, she couldn't think that Chuck could be like that. With anyone.

And then the shocking revelation occurred to her.

Maybe he was only that way with her.

That was the beginning of Blair Waldorf's cynicism. Chuck's sole purpose in life was to corrupt the innocent, even if calling her such was a stretch. So she pushed away his advances, convinced herself his affection had ulterior motives, and ignored his pleas. Because he was Chuck Bass. And Chuck Bass could never love anything but himself.

Blair wasn't naïve. Nate and her breaking it off made her come to the understanding that in Manhattan, things such as matrimony weren't between two people that loved each other. They were between assets. Marriage was a business transaction, and she knew this for a fact by watching Lily van der Woodsen's many marriages.

She refused to believe any different because that was just an invitation for heartbreak. Unfortunately for her, heartbreak was like Chuck Bass.

He never merited an invitation either.

It frightened her. It frightened her how easily_ I love you_ slid from her lips, right into his rejection. It scared her how coolly he could let her go, without an ounce of remorse. And it made her fear that he could just walk up to her on the street one day and tell her that he loved her.

Because it was becoming quite clear to her that she was looking at her soul mate for the first time.

And it wasn't Nathaniel Archibald.

So while watching Lily van der Woodsen get married for the fifth time, she wished she wasn't standing so close to him. They were officially an _item_ now, and he would hold her hand in public, but she was worried to look past that. Chuck didn't like looking into the future, and she was even more afraid of his commitment issues. She couldn't push him away. Not like that.

And then she saw him. She turned her head a fraction of an inch, and Chuck Bass was staring at her with something she had only seen when he was in her proximity.

Love.

"I know that our future will be just like us. Flawed and fragmented. And full of more love than I thought possible."

Chuck Bass was smirking at her through his stepmother's vows and she couldn't help but fantasize once again. Being Chuck Bass' wife wouldn't be perfect. But it would be right.

Blair remembered her debut. She remembered what a vapid person she was at that time. So afraid that looking for an escort had been looking for a husband in itself. At that time, she had chosen Nate. Because Nate was easy. Nate wouldn't disappoint her.

Nate wouldn't break her heart.

And it still got broken that night.

It was only the second time around that she got it right.

She had been wrong.

"How was your second Cotillion?"

He was smug, but she just had to let it go, because even though he had locked her in an elevator with her frenemy, their outfits matched. And she just had to smile at him and wrap her arms around his neck in a dance.

"It contrasts greatly to my first," Blair said admittedly.

"Does it?" he mused.

"Yes," she answered. "I'm not going to leave you standing alone on the dance floor this time."

Something flickered in his eyes, and he pulled her closer. She exhaled, holding him tight, because even though she was more realistic now, it was clear what would happen.

Even though the odds were stacked against her, she only wanted one husband now.

She only ever wanted him.

**Agent Provocateur**

_Is that pole artist wearing my Agent Provocateur corset? Just make she's careful undoing the eyehooks. They pinch._

From the moment he walked into her bedroom, he couldn't help but get a striking sense of déjà vu. He remembered burning candles and hair twisted up sensually. He remembered almost allowing himself to fall so hard for her. He remembered not caring that she didn't love him. She didn't have to say it. He used to be able to tell just by the way their skin whispered together.

And even only weeks later, all bets were still off. Because she was standing before him, completely unaware of his presence—in nothing but his favorite Agent Provocateur corset and gartered stockings.

He tripped.

Not the stoicism he liked to exhibit when he was in her presence, but then again, he was in her presence, and he could never control himself around her.

At this ungraceful announcement of his presence, Blair turned a quarter of a turn, her dark curls spilling down her back as she looked over her shoulder at him.

And his heart just broke. He watched as her painfully beautiful tears streaked mascara down her face, and he couldn't take his eyes off of her for one second.

"Hey."

Blair stared at him for a moment, and he was surprised that she hadn't kicked him out immediately for the sake of her indecency.

"Mother has a new boyfriend, you know."

Chuck took that as an invitation to cross the threshold. He paused behind her, looking over her shoulder and into the reflection of the mirror.

"Don't be sad," he said quietly, taking comfort in the fact that she was the only one who would ever hear him speak that way.

Blair sniffed. "She says I'm childish and scheming."

"She's a hypocrite."

Chuck could tell she was trying to smile at him, but it fell flat.

"Could you help me, please?"

She was looking at him politely, and he couldn't understand what she was asking.

"Sometimes the eyehooks pinch."

Chuck looked to her sloping back to see the corset binding her together.

"You sure?" Chuck asked, though he still had the audacity to slide his hand up her back. She shivered, and he was pleased to know that, at the very least, she still had something sweet within her.

They both knew the weight of those two words.

"It's nothing you haven't seen before, Bass."

She sounded cold, but her late addition told him different.

"Please."

And with that, all Chuck could do was comply. With deft and practiced ease, he quickly, but carefully, started pulling her apart, starting with the eyehooks.

Holding the corset to her chest, she turned to face him.

"Thank you."

"If your mother can't love the complicated beauty in you," Chuck said, "then it's her loss."

"And what about you?" Blair asked. "Can you?"

Chuck wasn't sure if this was a trap or not, but as Blair turned away from him again, he knew the question was, in no way, an ambush. She was just asking.

"Goodnight, Chuck," Blair said, sitting on her bed.

She refused to make eye contact.

When he left her room that night, he made a promise to himself.

One day he would say it.

One day they would be happy.


	17. They Shoot Humphreys Don't They Part III

**A/N**: So yes, **The Very Last Valkyrie** did do something with one of the quotes below, but I can only hope at this point in our relationship, she can forgive all of my misgivings. Like Blair forgives Chuck.

**Summary**: No matter how much he wanted to be the detached, heinous monster that Blair used to sneer down upon, he just couldn't. Because she wasn't sneering and he was feeling more and more of everything.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing is mine. Quotes and such belong to GG, as well as current angst. This is just my attempt to make myself feel better. Thanks to my lovely beta, **comewhatmay.x**. I only realized this after I finished the last vignette of this chapter, but it totally wasn't what I planned on writing for that quote. So at the end of this fic, there might be a little bonus chapter in the works

* * *

**Calm**

_The last time I saw Blair that freakishly calm..._

_Was when Serena left for boarding school._

_You know as well as I do the calm won't last. And when it breaks, there are going to be pieces of Blair all over the wall. And I really don't want to clean up that mess._

Her perfume was strong, and for a fraction of a second, he was quite sure he had been having another one of those dreams he continuously refused to admit he was having.

"I need a favor."

He turned to greet her, though with shocking disappointment.

This wasn't a dream. If it had been, she would be wearing a lovely matching lingerie set. And yet, he couldn't help but be confused. She was leaning into him, her arm draped around his shoulders like they had some sort of normal friendship.

But he was Chuck Bass. And Chuck Bass would always play Blair Waldorf's little games.

"I was waiting for this," Chuck answered, unable to restrain the relief that at least some of Blair's traits remained static.

"What do you mean?"

For the first time, this wasn't her playing innocent. She was looking up at him with genuine curiosity and he couldn't understand it.

"You're serious," Chuck couldn't help but say it out loud.

"Chuck, you're going to have to stop speaking in riddles."

It was the first time he could actually recall her addressing him by his first name.

"I just would have assumed you would have wanted revenge."

"For what?"

Again with the genuine innocence.

"Blair," Chuck said quietly. "Serena left a week ago. For _Connecticut_, and without even telling you. Not telling anyone."

"Serena has always been a free spirit," Blair said brightly. "I'm sure she'll return my calls soon."

"Sure," Chuck shrugged. "With the countless numbers of boarding school professors she's busy seducing, she should find time to return your meek calls."

"Why are you trying to hurt me?" Blair asked. He couldn't help but be confused at how her voice wasn't filled with ire, but curiosity.

It was a question that he didn't have an answer to. Because he wasn't trying to hurt Blair. As always, he was just trying to discover Blair.

"That was weird."

Nate's eyes were dull and glassy as Chuck sat beside him.

"Weird?" Nate coughed.

In the moment, Chuck hadn't felt like this. Watching his two blonde friends slide all over each other in that bar, all he felt was his perverse pleasure at voyeurism.

He didn't feel like that any longer. In fact, just moments after that had transpired, he felt ill. Now more than ever, was he starting to think that had more to do with seeing Blair than anything. And now, all he could feel was disgust towards his best friend.

For the first time in his life, he was the judgmental one while Nate was screwing leggy blondes.

"Blair," Chuck said.

Nate shrugged, and Chuck wanted to slap the stupid right out of him. No matter how much he wanted to be the detached, heinous monster that Blair used to sneer down upon, he just couldn't. Because she wasn't sneering and he was feeling more and more of everything.

Nate was the one being callous and insensitive.

And selfish.

"She's been nice."

"Nice," Chuck repeated.

"Bearable."

Nate wasn't making this any better.

"What?" Nate asked in annoyance.

"Her best friend just abandoned her," Chuck said. "Serena's gone. She's not coming back."

"Well maybe Blair isn't the only one who cares," Nate said sharply.

Chuck laughed bitterly, standing up.

"Don't do this to me."

"Do what?"

"Blair has always been fragile," Chuck said. "You may refuse to see it, but you have no idea how delicate she is. She needs someone. Don't make that be me."

"Who says you have to do anything?" Nate asked. "You've never liked her, anyway."

"I've tolerated her," Chuck said. "And I'm starting to understand that was the only form of affection she's ever gotten."

Nate just stared at him blankly.

"You are her boyfriend," Chuck said. "You shouldn't be the one sulking here."

"Blair can take care of herself."

Chuck had to laugh again.

"You know how far you've fallen when I'm the one going to console the Bitch Queen."

"No one asked you to."

"Someone did," Chuck said. "You're just too wrapped up in yourself to hear it."

Chuck hated it. He hated facing his own feelings, and speaking to his best friend that way. He hated all of it. And he was completely prepared to snap Blair out of whatever Valium induced trance she was in.

But something had done it for her.

His blood turned to ice, and he didn't need to hear the heaving to know exactly what had happened. All he had to do was look at the closed bathroom door. He must have been some sort of sadist, because as he opened it, he felt a semblance of relief.

There was anger flooding her eyes as she attempted to get up from her red streaked knees. Chuck was sure there must have been a slap in there as well, along with her infuriated screams at him.

But all he felt was relief.

Because at least she was feeling something.

"What are you doing?"

It wasn't that he was in her bathroom, seeing her in her most vulnerable of moments. It was that he was there at all, and it was at her furious question that he realized that his arms were wrapped around her in a friendly embrace.

"We're friends, Waldorf," he said softly. Her nails suddenly dug into his back, and he didn't know why they had sunk to the floor, but there they were.

He didn't understand it anymore than he knew that she didn't.

And he knew the real reason why he dreaded coming to her so much.

"He doesn't care," Blair said haltingly into his chest. "He just doesn't."

"I do."

Because that was the moment he realized that he more than tolerated Blair Waldorf.

**Punishment**

_This is a punishable offense. And not the kind of punishment you like._

Breathtaking. Mesmerizing. Spectacular.

Hot.

It was at that moment, as he walked into his stepmother's estate, that he knew he had done something terribly wrong. He knew it when he found Blair to be gone that morning, apparently to a high class party in the Hamptons that was being held at Lily's own house, but upon his entrance to the party, he knew it had little to do with the social elite and everything to do with him.

It wasn't egotism. He knew exactly what Blair was overreacting about.

He didn't like it.

"What do you think you're wearing?"

He wasn't to be fooled. Even as Blair turned around in a dress with a hem far too inappropriate, even in the summer, they were both aware of the fact that she knew exactly what she was wearing the second he stepped out of the limo.

"A dress." Blair blinked at him innocently.

Chuck couldn't say what he wanted to say. They were in a public forum, and he knew that Blair really would leave him if he caused a scene at a party.

Then again, everything he did was because of her.

"Blair," Chuck said steadily, "whatever you think you're about to do-"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," Blair said, and he knew he was in trouble. "You know what I'm doing."

"And what's that?" Chuck asked uncomfortably.

"Punishing you," Blair said brightly. "So you're going to watch me flirt with other men right in your face, because you deserve it."

"I said I was sorry," Chuck said.

"I don't care," she answered indifferently.

"I had to have a meeting with Lily before she left," Chuck said. "I wasn't trying to insult you-"

"But you did," Blair said. "You've never refused sex from me before. So you're going to stand right here, and revel in your stupidity. Just because I told you to."

"You know I'm not like any of your call boys," Chuck warned. "I'm not going to idly stand by-"

"Yes, you are," Blair said. "Because even though you won't admit it to my face for fear of encouragement, you like me in this dress."

At her statement, he just stood there in shock, watching her go over to some townie with a leer, who, evidently, already had a drink waiting for her.

"Alright, that's enough."

He hadn't lasted as long as he thought he was able. In fact, it had only been under an hour when he dragged Blair away, finally enacting his privilege as a boyfriend to protect her.

Apparently, she didn't see it that way.

Blair glared up at him in the secluded room, hearing him lock the door behind them.

"That wasn't very nice," she taunted.

"You know what isn't nice?" Chuck asked. "Throwing some meaningless conquest in my face."

"I guess we're two of a kind," she answered coldly. "Being pleasant isn't in our nature."

"That's why you're here in this dark room with me," Chuck said, "and not flaunting that unfair body of yours for pathetic men who don't even know that they're being strung along."

"Unfair?"

And his resentment seemed to melt away. No longer was he furious at her for forcing such punishment on him. He knew he deserved it. But he also knew that he and his girlfriend were in a dark, locked bedroom.

And he was going to take full advantage of that.

"You know exactly how good you look tonight, Waldorf," Chuck said gruffly. "Don't play coy."

"But I play it so well," Blair said in that sultry tone of hers, easing her hands up his lapel.

"You know the only reason I didn't proposition you last night," Chuck murmured hotly in her ear, "was because I wanted to do you justice."

"Meaning?"

"That skirt is highly inappropriate for you to be seen in by anyone but me," he said, his grip tightening.

"Oh," she said pleasantly. And he knew that he was flattering her in the best way possible.

"Do you understand now," Chuck said, "how it is so hard for me to restrain myself when you look like that?"

"That's why it's a punishment," Blair said.

"But I like it so much," Chuck groaned in her ear. Her hands were fluttering around his neck, and he was glad he had locked the door beforehand. Because even though he knew Blair's secret fetish for being with him in public like the prudish queen she wasn't, he knew he wouldn't be able to lock the door in time after they got onto the floor.

And Chuck ripped off Blair's entirely inappropriate dress on that floor immediately.

**Cheater**

_If you two want to kiss, it won't count as cheating._

From the moment he stepped into Serena van der Woodsen's sixteenth birthday party, Chuck knew exactly what was going to happen. It was the way her best friend's eyes slid fearfully away from his face and she made excuses to escape his proximity.

Yes, Chuck Bass had decided he was going to destroy Blair Waldorf that night. And the best part was, she knew exactly what was coming.

"Don't even try it."

He had to admit, the girl cleaned up well. Of course, it was obvious she was just overcompensating for her flaws, but if he weren't completely loyal to Nathaniel, he would actually consider indulging that fantasy.

Blair stared at him coldly over her drink.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about," Chuck said smugly.

"I understand your desire for retribution," Blair said. "Believe me, I do. But you have your bias."

"And you have a lack of morals," Chuck pointed out.

"Are you really going to be the one to question my morals?" Blair asked laughingly, and he didn't understand how she could hurt him when she was the one on trial. "What happened last night was a mistake."

"A mistake that will be rectified," Chuck answered.

"Yes," Blair suddenly said. "It will."

Chuck knew from those words alone, that Blair Waldorf was not one to be trifled with. Then again, when it came to Blair Waldorf, he just couldn't help himself.

"Blair, come here."

Sitting on the floor, Chuck was doing something he hadn't done since the sixth grade. But he had a feeling it would work out for him. Serena beckoned her best friend over, who was currently lounging against the table of drinks, looking disdainfully upon the circle of people.

"Don't you find it a little juvenile?" Blair sneered.

"It's just spin the bottle," Serena said.

Blair knew the girl was already drunk.

"Anyway, we're using a phone," Chuck interjected mockingly. "It's much more sophisticated."

"Not when you're involved."

Blair could feel the eyes of her minions and their suitors staring at her, but there was nothing within her that could care at the moment.

"_Blair_."

When Serena's voice began to whine like that, Blair had no tolerance for it, and with a sigh, descended next to the blonde.

"So," Serena said conversationally as Hazel beamed, positively ecstatic at getting to kiss Noah West. "Where's Nate tonight?"

"I don't know," Blair said tersely, more than aware of hot eyes of whiskey burning into the side of her face.

"Well, did you see him last night?" Serena prodded.

"Serena-" Blair started in annoyance, only to find that the room had suddenly quieted and everyone was staring at her.

"She's shy," Chuck finally remarked. "How flattering."

Blair looked down to see the head of the phone was now pointing at her, and judging from Chuck's smug smirk, she had quite a clear idea of who had just spun it.

"Don't worry, B," Penelope smiled nastily. "I'm sure Nate won't count it as cheating."

"Of course he won't," Chuck said forebodingly. "Will he, Blair?"

"Shut up," Blair snapped. If anyone had found the display odd, they didn't show it. Blair knew what was required of her in this situation, and even though she was backed into a corner, there was no doubt in her mind how to rectify it.

So quickly, that she was pleased to find Chuck slightly surprised, Blair leaned across the circle, grabbing the back of Chuck's head to crush her lips against his.

For a moment, everything paused.

She didn't know what was happening, but Chuck's tongue was suddenly in her mouth, and the socially acceptably three seconds had already elapsed, and they still weren't pulling away.

Chuck had finally taken the liberty of biting Blair's lip gently, shaking her out of the strange trance she found herself in. She broke away quickly, shoving against Chuck's chest for good measure. Blair sat back on her heels, listening to the deafening silence of surprise filling the room.

"See?" Chuck asked, his mouth smudged slightly red from Blair's lipstick. "No problem at all."

Without another word, Blair took herself out of the equation entirely, striding past the table holding the drinks while grabbing whatever her fingers closed around. As the party faded in the background, she heard the beginnings of slight laughter.

She slammed the bathroom door behind her.

"There are a lot of rumors about what you're doing in here."

Chuck's voice sounded distant, though his Italian loafers were within eyeshot. It confirmed the theory how long she must have been on the bathroom floor, and how much she must have consumed. She heard him sigh and his hands grasped around her upper arms, pulling her to her feet.

"I had no idea you were so fragile," Chuck said disdainfully.

Blair glared at him stubbornly and his face softened. He smoothed her hair from her shoulders and if she were sober, she would have found it entirely inappropriate. At the moment, she was just fuzzy.

"I'm not afraid of you," Blair said. "Go ahead and tell him."

"You want me to tell him how last night at _Visconti's_ I spotted you making out with some college prep?" Chuck laughed. "I don't think so."

"It would be better than you torturing me," Blair answered.

"Nate having his heart broken from your indiscretion is better?" Chuck asked doubtfully.

"It was just a kiss," Blair said quietly, but they both could hear the shame in her voice. "But the real question is why you didn't call Nate the second you saw it. Or even better, Gossip Girl."

"I like to see you squirm."

"I know you do," Blair said in her slight inebriation, stroking the lapel of his jacket. Chuck was made uneasy by this side of Blair, not liking that dangerous glint in her eyes.

And loving it at the same time.

"But not as much as you love Nate," Blair answered. "So go ahead and tell him I was cheating."

"If I told him that, I would have to tell him about tonight," Chuck said suggestively.

"It was just a game, Chuck," Blair rolled her eyes. "It doesn't count."

"Neither did last night," Chuck answered. "Like you said. It was just a kiss."

"You're not going to tell Nate," Blair said doubtfully.

"Do you want me to?" Chuck asked.

"What I want is to know if I can either trust you, or mistrust you," Blair said. "But I can't."

"I can't trust you either," Chuck said.

"Good."

It was at that moment that Chuck decided he liked his best friend's girl inebriated.

"You were hot tonight."

Blair's face was guarded only for a moment, as she collapsed back onto the sink.

"Blair-"

"The one person who I wish would say it, doesn't," Blair said softly, "and the one person I would never expect does. What is that?"

"The truth," Chuck answered. "You know how much of a fan I am of the Sexy Bitch."

"Why does he like her more than me?"

"Because you two aren't supposed to be together," Chuck said bluntly. He watched the anger flash in her eyes and they both knew he said it to get that exact reaction. "You're not compatible and you know it. You're just holding out until the end."

"So who am I compatible with?" Blair asked. "If you're so smart."

Chuck was silent for a moment, because the answer was hanging heavy on the air, neither one of them willing to admit it. Both of them too stubborn too...similar.

"If you tell Nate," Blair warned, her vulnerability melting away in an instant, "I will ruin you."

"You say it like that's a threat," Chuck answered.

"What are you, some kind of masochist?" Blair asked.

"So are you, Waldorf," Chuck said.

Whether Chuck was willing to admit it or not, Blair knew she had been cheating on Nate for a long time. That much was clear when she was more intimate with his best friend than him.


	18. The Last Days of Disco Stick!

**A/N**: Just wnat to say how grateful I am to everyone who has stuck with this. We're nowhere near the end, but I'm nothing without readers. Literally. And thanks to those who have encouraged me. It helps at times like these.

**Summary**:"I've been so bored," Blair sighed. "Well, you can relax sweetheart," Chuck replied, and Nate found himself looking away. Chuck and Blair were talking to each other.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing is mine. Quote belong to GG and the beta was **comewhatmay.x**'s doing.

* * *

**Sexual Tension Radar**

_In the second grade, I saw our gym teacher giving Laverne Glazer's mom the glad-eye. Not only did it earn me the first A++ for gym in Constance history, I learned that my sexual tension radar is unparalleled._

_Point ceded. _

"What are we looking at?"

His voice was dark and husky in her ear, his hands easing over her shoulders. Blair wasn't sure if she allowed this because of the rage and disgust she was harboring towards her boyfriend and her so-called best friend—or if it were something else all together.

"Nothing."

He chuckled infuriatingly, and she whirled around to glare at him. Without preamble, he took a seat by her side, following her line of sight.

"They make a handsome couple," Chuck drawled suggestively. "Don't they?"

When Blair didn't answer, Chuck cast a sidelong glance her way. He didn't know what it was, but he let himself actually feel for her. But he also knew she would rather be dead than have anyone—especially the likes of Chuck Bass—pity her.

Serena's laughter echoed throughout the courtyard, as she placed a hand flirtatiously on Nate's chest.

Blair finally glanced at him coldly, and he was surprised at how much it pleased him.

"If you think so," Blair said, "why are you looking at me?"

"Truthfully, I was hoping you'd throw some sort of fit," Chuck said. "Someone must have taken their Xanax today."

"Sorry to disappoint you."

"You don't disappoint me," Chuck answered. "Despite the fact how shiny Serena and Nate's hair is, I find you far more entertaining."

"How complimentary," Blair sneered. "You hold as much respect for me as you do those exotic dancers you're always so enamored with."

"I didn't say that either," Chuck said. "If I'm going to be enamored by anyone, it's going to be you."

"Even with Nate standing right there?" Blair asked, provoking.

"If you haven't noticed, Waldorf," Chuck said, "Nate isn't looking over here."

"If you haven't noticed, Bass," Blair replied, "I don't exactly want you here either."

"I like how you say my name," Chuck said huskily. Blair paused in sudden realization.

"What are you doing?" Blair asked.

"Distracting you," he answered with a shrug. "And I know it's working because you haven't looked over at Nate since I came over."

"Lesser of two evils."

"I'm the lesser of two evils?" Chuck asked. "I think that's the best compliment I've ever received."

"It's the only compliment you've ever received," Blair rolled her eyes. But Chuck was smirking at her again, and for a moment, she was afraid of the fact that he didn't really feel like a distraction.

Not even a little.

"I'm not blind."

Chuck had been sure that had been his clue to leave, but she was looking at him, and he found himself sitting back at her side.

"I appreciate that, considering you're looking at me."

Her eyes were full of melancholy, and he had to wonder why her best friend continued to ruin her self-esteem.

Not that Blair even realized it.

"Does he talk about her?"

"Do you really want to know the answer to that?"

"I already know the answer," Blair answered.

"Then why are you asking me?" Chuck asked.

"I want someone to tell me the truth for once," Blair said. "But trust me when I say, I know sexual tension when I see it."

"Not yet," Chuck smirked. Blair narrowed her eyes, but didn't answer. And Chuck couldn't find a way to continue the conversation.

He watched her turn her back on her boyfriend and her best friend.

And him.

.

"You need to get up."

Nate looked up at his best friend through narrowed eyes. Chuck sighed, forcing the curtains over, and causing Nate to roll back over on his bed.

"Nathaniel," Chuck said. "You're being pathetic. Aren't you tired of listening to Blue October?"

"How can you be so calm?" Nate asked. "Serena just left."

"I can be calm because Blair is," Chuck said. "If Blair is going out and moving on with her life, you should too."

"Serena was my friend."

"And Blair is your girlfriend," Chuck said. "We're leaving."

"Where are we going?"

"Back-to-school party."

"At Blair's?" Nate asked begrudgingly, but sitting up drowsily.

"Where else?"

It was only upon their arrival at Blair's penthouse did Nate consider the strangeness of Chuck's behavior.

He was smiling.

"And where have you been, Bass?"

Nate hung back for a second as he heard Blair's voice.

"Relax, Waldorf," Chuck said. "And I do have a few suggestions how to accomplish that, if you're so inclined. I had to pick up your dead weight."

Nate watched in confusion. Blair had been laughing at Chuck's words, in a way that Nate had never heard. But at his last words, the smile fell off of Blair's face.

"Nate," she said awkwardly, looking over Chuck's shoulder.

"You can thank me later," Chuck replied.

"Charles," Blair said through gritted teeth, beckoning him to come closer. Chuck sighed dramatically, before approaching her. She grabbed his bow tie, her voice low in his ear. Nate strained to hear her words, but in vain.

"...should have told me..._humiliating_-"

"I told you to relax...perfectly fine-"

But Blair spun on her heel before stomping up the stairs.

"What was that?" Nate asked as Chuck trudged back towards him.

"Nothing," Chuck said, although Nate was sure it wasn't. "She just had to go call her mother."

"I meant with you."

"What are you trying to imply?" Chuck asked gravely. But Nate didn't actually know. He just stood there, staring at his best friend, wondering what the hell he was thinking.

But he couldn't.

.

"I would rather you didn't."

Blair's voice was tight, as she glared at Chuck from her position on her bed.

"Why are you having a bitch attack?" Chuck asked. "I just brought your boyfriend out of his depression. I'm still waiting for your gratitude, by the way."

"I didn't want him here," Blair sputtered.

"Why?" Chuck asked. "You seemed perfectly fine when you saw me."

"Exactly."

Chuck didn't want to ask. He knew what she was talking about, if only because he had been afraid of the same feeling. But Nate was here, and that brought reality crashing down on both of them.

"What are you trying to imply?" Chuck asked.

Because he had to hear it.

She didn't answer. She knew it, she just couldn't say it.

Because this was the first time she couldn't openly admit her recognition of sexual tension.

**Threesome**

_I know things. I've been to Europe. Chuck Bass is my best friend, alright? The third person is supposed to be a stranger._

"Seriously, Serena. You smell like the floor of a brewery."

"I do _not_."

To be honest, Nate couldn't help but be pleased when Blair ordered him to take Serena upstairs to take a bath. She had come to the Waldorf Penthouse drunk, but always Daddy's Little Girl, Blair had to stay with Harold.

Nate couldn't help it. He couldn't help but take advantage of the opportunity. Especially when he kept hearing the depraved voice of his best friend in his head.

"What are you _doing_?"

Standing there in Blair's bathroom with the faucet in his hand, he had to feel guilty. His petite girlfriend was staring at him incredulously as Serena stood there soaked to the bone. Water began to spray again, and Nate wrapped his arms around Blair, relieved at her shrieks of laughter.

"Don't be stupid, Nathaniel."

It wasn't the first time Chuck Bass had said something surprising, but Nate couldn't help but stare. If there was one thing that he was sure his best friend would be in favor of, it was this.

"If I wasn't out of town during Thanksgiving, I could have stopped this disaster in its tracks," Chuck said.

"We were just hanging out," Nate said.

"Nathaniel," Chuck began, and Nate rolled his eyes, knowing that he was about to have wisdom imparted unwillingly onto him. "It isn't a secret the way you look at Serena. But it's also clear how you feel about Blair. Trust me when I tell you, do not embark on any urge involves both of them. You have to choose one."

"What are you saying?"

"You got into a water fight with your girlfriend and her best friend?" Chuck asked dubiously. "That isn't an afternoon. That's the plot to a grade B porno. Don't do it."

"Don't do what?" Nate asked, oblivious.

"Blair won't want a threesome with you and her best friend."

"What?" Nate asked, a little too loudly.

"Don't act so incredulous," Chuck sighed. "I know what was going through your mind."

"That's..." Nate scoffed. "That's just..."

"Besides," Chuck said. "Even if Blair would be willing to share you—though trust me, she's not—you don't have a threesome with two of your acquaintances. The third person is always a stranger."

"You would know," Nate muttered.

"I do," Chuck said. "I'm your best friend. Trust me when I tell you this. If you even bring it up to Blair, she will dump you."

"I won't."

"It's just a fantasy," Chuck encouraged. "Blair Waldorf does not share."

"You talk like you actually know," Nate laughed.

"Better than you, apparently."

Nate didn't know whether to be offended or not. But at that moment, his phone vibrated, Serena's name flashing across the screen.

And he forgot about the conversation instantly.

.

"Your Dad's brunch is today."

"My alarm's set for nine."

"It's ten."

Nate watched as Chuck eased into a sitting position, callously casting the room service twins' legs off of him.

"Ladies. Double-time."

While walking into The Palace, watching Chuck adjust his tie, aggressively, Nate had to ask. His best friend still seemed to be scorned with the arrival of Dan Humphrey, but Nate decided that he didn't have nearly enough knowledge of threesomes.

"I thought you said the third person was supposed to be a stranger."

Chuck seemed to be staring off at something.

"What?" he asked, finally turning towards Nate.

"In a threesome," Nate said. "I couldn't help but notice the company you had in your bed."

"The room service twins?" Chuck laughed. "They are strangers. They just work in the hotel. My father's hotel."

"You know them," Nate suggested.

"I don't know women, Nathaniel," Chuck said. "The rule doesn't apply to me. All women are strangers."

"I guess."

But Nate couldn't help but stop himself.

"It's about time you got here."

His girlfriend was talking to his best friend, and he had to wonder.

"I've been so bored," Blair sighed.

"Well, you can relax sweetheart," Chuck replied, and Nate found himself looking away. Chuck and Blair were talking to each other.

Really talking to each other, and in a way that Nate found most disturbing. Nate didn't know if Chuck was lying, but he was sure it was more likely that he was just unaware.

He had a friend that was a girl.

Her name was Blair Waldorf.

And they were in each other's proximity that made Nate far more uncomfortable than he would have liked.


	19. Treasure of Serena Madre

**A/N**: Only two vignettes for this one and one of them is a Humphrey one, but I hope you can forgive me for that.

**Summary**: They were grasping and scratching and gasping at each other's grip, still caught in a whirlwind of intertwined limbs. They were too evenly matched and neither could hold on any harder or push away any harsher.

**Disclaimer**: Quotes belong to GG, as always. THanks to comewhatmay.x who beta-ed even though she's hella busy.

* * *

**Holiday Paranoia**

_Your holiday paranoia truly knows no bounds._

It was something that he had always taken advantage of. From the very beginning, he hadn't been able to help himself. Just like he knew how Blair's weakness were weddings, he knew what happened to her during the holidays.

From the very beginning.

"What are you doing here?"

Chuck smirked, and Blair swallowed uncomfortably, crumbs of tea-soaked cookies still at the back of her throat. She could still recall the apple pie she had purged so willingly earlier that day, and how she wanted to do the same at that very moment.

Even if it was in front of him.

"I hadn't heard from you," Chuck said, casually sifting through the belongings on her desk. "You know how I worry."

"I know how you worry about getting your next lay," Blair retorted, struggling viciously out of her little coat.

"Let me help you with that," he said chivalrously.

And for some reason, she let him. She didn't know why, but she had reason to believe it had something to do with how her body trembled at his now familiar touch.

"I worry about you," he murmured into her ear.

Blair whirled around.

"How did you even get up here?"

"Your mother let me up."

"My mother and I were talking downstairs," Blair said. "She would have told me."

"Having some sort of heart to heart, I'm sure," Chuck answered. "She looked perturbed about something. It was quite easy for me to convince her to surprise you."

"You manipulated my _mother_?" Blair asked.

"Are you impressed?" Chuck asked, but sighed. "You really need to relax, Waldorf. I'm not here to attack you."

"Not physically," she muttered.

"Do you find my emotional attacks so wearisome?" Chuck asked, and she hated herself for allowing him to gain territory on her. "I was under the impression that you loved letting loose for me."

"You were under the impression of orgasm," Blair sneered.

"So were you."

Blair scoffed, but he continued on.

"I have to admit," Chuck said, "you impressed me. And no one has ever done that before. For someone who has only had sex twice, you were surprisingly receptive."

"And you're trying to convince me that you're here for something other than gratification?" Blair asked.

"You should be proud of the fact that, being a woman so recently deflowered, you can satisfy me to such a degree."

"You talk like it's going to happen again," Blair spat.

"Why are you being like this?" Chuck asked.

"Because my mother isn't the only one you've been trying to manipulate since you got here."

"For entirely different reasons, I assure you," he said. "And to be frank, I don't need to manipulate women into being with me."

"Then why are you trying?"

"Because I'd only ever try for you."

"You don't call this an attack?"

Chuck smirked.

"Maybe your paranoia has some merit."

"Maybe you should leave."

"We can be quiet as mice," Chuck whispered, laying his fingertips on her lips. "I promise."

"No, Chuck. We can't."

It wouldn't be the first or last time she overreacted when it came to him, but to be fair, it wouldn't be the first or last time he had approached her in such a manner either.

This time, she fought back with much more physicality than he gave her credit for.

"Honey, I'm home."

_Thwack_.

"So you've been expecting me."

Chuck looked at his feet to see the phone that had just been chucked solidly at his chest. It lay open to the picture he knew she was furious about.

Chuck looked up, and let himself eye her appreciatively.

"How _dare_ you."

Her silver dress glimmered around her thighs as she stalked towards him from across the room. Cheers of the New Year echoed below them, but all Chuck could do was think of her. Think of how much joy he would take in torturing her—just to mask the hurt she had caused him.

The backlight of her phone faded, but the picture of Chuck and his best friend were still ingrained in his mind.

**Just one question: how did you fake your virginity for N?**

"Shouldn't you be celebrating with the rest of them downstairs?" Chuck asked. "Or maybe you were just waiting for me to come up here. Maybe you just wanted to relish stolen moments between us."

"There is no us," Blair snapped. "You saw to that."

"Don't act torn up about it," Chuck replied. "You left me on that dance floor. I didn't ask for this."

"And I didn't ask to be blackmailed."

"Don't be so melodramatic."

"Realistic," Blair corrected. "I know you, Chuck. I know you want to punish me."

"Have you been dipping into my stash while I was gone?" Chuck asked, fixing a strand of Blair's hair that was out of place.

He was surprised that she let him.

"You're starting to sound a little paranoid."

"Paranoid?" Blair laughed. "You sent me a picture of you and your best friend and texted me about my virginity. Don't pretend that this isn't anything other than what it is."

"Only you would spot it," Chuck smiled. "But you acting like you don't want it is laughable. Like how you pretend you still don't want me. Or didn't want me to begin with."

"Your ego is laughable."

"You love our push-and-pull," Chuck said. "My reaction really isn't that startling. Like you said before, you know me."

"So you are blackmailing me," Blair sneered.

"Blair, my love," Chuck sighed, his hand still lingering across the soft skin of her face. But his hand suddenly grew angry, pulling her to him so he could whisper savagely in her ear. "You are _forbidden_ from ever seeing dear Nathaniel again."

"Forbidden?" Blair asked, trying to free herself from his sharp grasp.

In vain.

They were grasping and scratching and gasping at each other's grip, still caught in a whirlwind of intertwined limbs. They were too evenly matched and neither could hold on any harder or push away any harsher.

"You _infuriate_ me more than anyone ever could," Chuck snapped. He let her go finally, and she stumbled away. "You should be proud of that."

"I didn't do it to hurt you."

"That's the problem," Chuck answered. "The least you could do was lie to my face."

"Do you want me to hurt you?"

"Then at least I could believe that you still cared."

"Well if it's any consolation," Blair said snappishly, "you infuriate me more than anyone ever could as well."

She didn't know that this pleased Chuck until he strode over to her, sweeping her up in his grasp. His fingers dug passionately into her shoulders. She didn't flinch, just glared up at him.

"You will always be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

Blair closed her eyes, but when Chuck relinquished his grip, she realized in horror that she wanted exactly what he did.

She watched with mortification as he walked through the door. Right as it closed, she could finally admit to herself that, since the moment he had entered her room, she had wanted him to claim her lips and tongue as his again.

As much as the rest of her body.

Instead, she bent down to pick up her phone, and looking at Chuck's taunting smirk through the pixels, she knew was in the right.

It wasn't just paranoia.

But she couldn't admit it just yet. She couldn't even admit it to herself that she was in love with him.

There was too much threat for disaster.

And that wasn't paranoia either.

**All Over**

_I can't believe I didn't see this until now._

_What?_

_Oh, you're in love with her. It's all over your face._

Eleanor had ended up at the graduation party late. After the uncomfortable revelation of Lily and Rufus' destroyed relationship, it was clear that a cumulative party at the van der Woodsen's would be awkward, to say the last. But Eleanor was trying to be better for her daughter.

She remembered Blair's spiral into depression during the Christmas holidays, and the pain she had felt at not knowing the cause, even if it pleased her that Cyrus did. She wanted to be better for Blair. But suddenly, it became very clear. The very reason for Blair's sadness was standing right in front of her.

"Where's your girlfriend?"

"You didn't hear?"

"Hear what?"

"Blair and I broke up."

Nathaniel and Charles had been friends with her daughter since before they could walk. Frankly, Eleanor couldn't care about Blair's love interests unless they were furthering her agenda. But as Nate walked away from his best friend, she saw Chuck hesitate.

Standing in the middle of the room, she watched his stiff posture curiously.

Until he was forced to move.

"What are you doing?"

"What?"

Chuck turned and Eleanor found her watching the exchange between the heir of a billion-dollar empire and her daughter. She should have been ecstatic, but for once, she had to wonder as to where Blair's feelings factored into this.

"We're supposed to be—"

"You didn't tell me."

Eleanor watched as her daughter's face fell.

"Tell you what?" Blair asked, and Eleanor had to smile at her play at innocence.

"I was just talking with Nate."

His voice was tense, as though he were bracing himself for something.

"You didn't tell me that you broke up."

"Like you care," Blair said coldly. "Because last time I checked, you didn't."

"Things change."

"And how was I supposed to know that?"

"You're not with him anymore," Chuck offered.

"Would that really make you change your answer?"

"Yes."

Clearly, there were many holes in the narrative. There were many things that Eleanor couldn't understand.

But she didn't need consistency. All she had to know was the way Chuck Bass was looking at her daughter.

"Are you going to Nate's party tonight?" Chuck asked suggestively.

"Maybe."

She had taught her daughter well.

"I'll see you there, Waldorf."

Eleanor wasn't sure if any consolation was in order for her daughter, but it occurred to her that Chuck was walking right towards her.

And she knew what she had to do.

"Charles."

Chuck stopped obediently, and she had a suspicion it had something to do with the use of his full name.

"Eleanor."

"So pleased to see you up and about."

"Are you?" Chuck asked doubtfully.

"Well, it isn't exactly a secret that you were going through a difficult time during the holidays."

"Not with my father's death all over the front page," Chuck said coarsely.

"You weren't the only one who was going through a difficult time," Eleanor said, having no intention of speaking about Bart. Chuck grimaced visibly and Eleanor had to smile. He knew exactly what subject she was about to bring up.

"The holidays are difficult for a lot of people," Chuck said vaguely. Eleanor knew all the evasion tricks. And she wasn't about to let Chuck worm his way out of this one.

"Especially when you abandon a girl right after she tells you she loves you," Eleanor said bluntly. "Not to get into any specifics."

Chuck's jaw clenched, and Eleanor was pleased. Because now she was sure.

"But Blair's over that now," she continued. "She can bounce back quite quickly."

"I've noticed," Chuck said, his eyes shifting towards Nate, who was talking with his grandfather.

"Nathaniel is in the past," Eleanor said. "But you knew that too. Didn't you?"

"Quite recently."

"My daughter is going to Nathaniel's party tonight," Eleanor cleared up. "And I would take it as a personal favor if you didn't break her heart again."

"What?" Chuck asked, obviously not expecting her to come right out with it.

"You're so in love with her," Eleanor said. "Though I should have seen it sooner, now that I have, I must warn you not to bring about the same result as last time. Blair doesn't handle betrayal well, as I'm sure you're aware."

"I am."

"And the fact that you're standing here listening to me means you really do care for her," Eleanor said. "Blair is just too thick-headed to see it."

"I don't want to hurt her," Chuck said.

And it was good enough for Eleanor.

"Good," she replied, before leaving him alone in the middle of the room once again.

.

Her daughter had been in her room for some time, and Eleanor remembered a time when she would spend hours primping for just a few seconds of eye-contact with someone her heart belonged to.

She knew her daughter. Her daughter was stubborn, relentless, and she got what she wanted.

Eleanor made sure of that—that afternoon more than ever.

"Dressing for someone?" Eleanor couldn't help but smile.

"Someone who I hope is ready to love me as much as Cyrus loves you," Blair answered quietly. She looked at the ground self-consciously, and Eleanor couldn't help but think that her daughter had never acted so introverted with Nathaniel.

"Cyrus told me you told Chuck how you felt," Eleanor said, "and he ran away."

Blair looked back up and smiled painfully in the mirror. But Eleanor wrapped her arms around the girl's shoulders and whispered in her ear.

"Don't let him get away with it."

Blair's laugh was real and Eleanor knew that her daughter had no intention of doing any such thing.

Blair straightened her skirt, righting the sparkling necklace across her clavicle and, in that moment, Eleanor couldn't be prouder. Because beneath the dark depths of her eyes was a girl who was desperately in love.

And wouldn't let the likes of Chuck Bass get away with anything.


	20. The Debarted

**A/N**: I've been told this is a good chapter, so I hope you feel the same.

**Summary**: In that moment, everything was perfect. He could pretend that this would last forever and he could pretend that he would say those three words he felt burning in the back of his throat. But he never did.

**Disclaimer**: Quotes belong to GG as well as characters. Thanks so much to my amazing beta **comewhatmay.x** who keeps me going.

* * *

**Yellow Roses**

_They should be yellow roses. They were my mother's favorite._

He tried not to think about it. It was easier that way. Easier on his conscience. He was aware of his evasive nature towards his own emotions. Even more so now, ever since Serena had cast him withering glares of disdain. But that was something he knew he was asking for.

Ever since that plane took off.

"What are the flowers for?"

The girl really couldn't take a hint, and as he smoothed down his hair compulsively, he felt ill at what he had been resorted to by a mere woman.

"You wouldn't perhaps have overheard a recent phone call with a certain best friend of mine who mentioned she was on her way out here on the Jitney."

So Chuck turned slowly, letting his eyes cast a cold mask over the rest of his features.

"What's a Jitney?"

Serena was cold and Chuck knew it was only because of her bond with the girl that had taken his heart all the way to Paris. It infuriated him how Serena could act so high and mighty when she was the one pretending to date his best friend. It was twisted, but then again, so was he. And so was the entire situation.

"Those are nice."

Nate's voice could attempt nonchalance, but when it came down to it, Chuck knew the spectrum of human emotion better than anyone.

And Nate was just as invested in the approaching Jitney as everyone else in the house was.

Everyone who wanted to see Chuck do an emotional face-plant at the manicured feet of Blair Waldorf.

But Chuck had to hand it to Nate. At least he was there for him and not for his own personal amusement.

"Serena seemed to think so," Chuck shot back, and he knew there would always be a strange rivalry between them, one that was so much more pronounced in their female counterparts.

Nate sighed, and sat down on Chuck's bed next to the flowers. He picked them up, ignoring the pointed glare his best friend sent him.

"Interesting choice."

"What makes you say that?" Chuck asked dully.

"Yellow roses," Nate said. "Not exactly romantic."

"She deserves them," Chuck said quietly. Nate laid them on the bed again, his brow knit in confusion, knowing that Chuck's intention was different from the way his words sounded. So he stayed quiet, watching Chuck shrug into an orange jacket.

"To make sure she sees you?" Nate joked. Chuck ran his hand down the lapel, but just shrugged.

"She'll see me."

"So you're going."

Chuck picked up the bouquet and Nate had his answer.

"You waited this long to apologize," Nate said. "Is it just because she's back? Just because you can? Because if you're just going to break her heart again-"

"Why?" Chuck asked. "Do you have some interest in it?"

"No," Nate said hastily. "Of course not. But she's still my friend, even if I don't feel that way about her anymore."

"I'm going," Chuck said, "because I have to. I just have to. I have to see her."

Nate knew his best friend, and it was always what Chuck didn't say rather than what he did say. And Nate knew.

Chuck wanted her back. This was just the first opportunity he got.

"And the roses?"

For the first time, Chuck smiled.

"She'll understand."

Taking measured steps towards the bus station, Chuck felt his fingers start to cramp around the stems. She was the only one who he had ever bought bouquets for, and he knew that would always be the case. Blair understood yellow roses because she was the only one he ever told.

She always understood.

Bart Bass always gave his wife yellow roses. Chuck would do the same. Because even as Blair stepped off the Jitney with her cruel smirk, effectively crushing his heart into a messy pulp, he knew that in the end, they would end up together.

Bart always gave his wife roses.

Like Chuck would do for his.

**Weak**

_My father always thought I was weak. And in the moment that mattered most, I was. I couldn't be there when he...I left. Right away. I've been pushing myself to prove him wrong. Pushing you away._

"Bart's been in an accident."

The moment he saw his stepmother and stepsister approach, he knew it. He just knew it. There was something within him that refused to believe the glaring truth, but then there was that part of him that knew something was dreadfully wrong.

He looked down at Blair Waldorf.

Her small hand was wrapped in his, and he held her closer, if only for a moment longer. Her eyes questioned him, but she still smiled. And in that moment, everything was perfect. He could pretend that this would last forever and he could pretend that he would say those three words he felt burning in the back of his throat.

But he never did.

Because his stepmother and stepsister were approaching and he never had the chance.

"Bart's been in an accident."

His hands dropped and he took an instinctive step backwards. Music and snowflakes filled the air around him, but none of it meant anything. He knew there was a possibility of him saying those words if he looked into those wide brown eyes of hers, but he just couldn't. Because he knew that would be the end of him.

Blair Waldorf was always the end of him.

"Chuck."

Her voice was sad and imploring, but he refused to look at her. He turned his back on her. He turned his back on her, his father, and the whole damned situation.

He had never hated himself more.

She was still in her dress. And he knew that she knew. There was something keeping him from going to his father's bedside and it—she—was sitting on a chaise in her living room. He walked quietly through the foyer, taking a moment to just look at her.

She was staring at the opposite wall, and he wished he could be strong for her.

He wished he wasn't so weak.

"What are you doing here?"

Her voice was surprised, and he didn't take offense.

"You should be at the hospital."

"Don't tell me what to do."

His voice was dark and he watched her recoil slightly. The air was thick and all he could do was advance towards her. He wanted so badly to just take comfort in her.

She was the only one who ever understood his relationship with Bart. Only she knew what it was like. The cold looks. The constant disappointment. But letting her in was just something he couldn't do.

Now more than ever.

"Fine," she said succinctly and he knew that he loved her. More than anything. More than this stupid life and the things that he thought were important. She never backed down from him. "What are you doing here, then?"

But all he could do was test her.

"We still have tonight," Chuck said. "I promised."

"That was before your father's limo crashed," she retorted.

"Don't. Test me," Chuck said darkly.

"I would ask the same courtesy of you, but we both know you won't give it to me."

"There are many things I want to give you."

Her body stiffened, and he knelt before her, finally finding himself eye-level with her.

"Don't do this," Blair said. "Not now. You want to hurt me? Do it after you visit your father."

Chuck felt himself being pushed away as she rose to her feet.

"That I _am_ telling you to do," Blair said, starting up the stairs before turning around once more. "Don't pretend that you don't feel anything. At least give your father that courtesy. Even if you won't do the same for me."

It was the only way he could have ended up at the hospital that night. He wished that she was by his side, but he knew that even if she were, there was no way that he could accept her. Not now. He wasn't ready to be so open with her.

Especially when he loved her so much.

"What are you doing out here? Come on."

He floated through the halls of the hospital, and all he could think of was how Serena was a poor substitute. She looked sad and heartfelt but she had no idea. She just didn't know.

"Charles, the doctors say there's nothing more that they can do."

His father looked so feeble and frail in that bed, tubes taped to his mouth. He saw the doleful look on Lily's face, but he just couldn't believe it. Because not a few hours before she was thinking of leaving him for some Brooklyn artist. And it was repulsive.

"We have to let him go."

He heard Serena's pleas for him to stay, but he never saw his face. He couldn't allow it. His father's new family had earned his love and appreciation so easily while Chuck had worked almost two decades for it. And it wasn't fair.

As his father slipped away, he found himself at the only place that had any semblance of meaning anymore. The Palace stood proud at the helm of Bartholomew Bass' empire, and still Chuck felt cold and empty. He had spent his entire life moving from hotel to hotel, never having a real home.

But as he arrived up to his suite, he realized that he did have a home. But his home wasn't a building.

"Hi."

It was a girl.

Blair was standing in front of his door, obviously waiting for him to return where she knew he would.

She always knew. He took a moment to take her in, noticing that she had foregone her floor-length gown for a more practical pencil skirt and blouse.

"Policing my behavior now?" Chuck snapped, brushing past her to get at the door. "Well, you can stop. I went to the hospital."

Blair didn't answer. She just watched him unlock his door.

"Aren't you going to ask me how it went?" Chuck demanded.

"No," she said softly. She took a comforting step towards him but he backed into the room, keeping the threshold between them.

This was it. This was how he could keep her with him.

But he wouldn't. He didn't want her anywhere near him.

"So you've heard," Chuck said coldly. "What are you doing here?"

"I just-"

"Wanted to console me?" Chuck asked mockingly. Her face grew hard but he knew he was hitting her where it hurt her most. Because he knew her. And this was just the way things had to be. "Take care of me? Because you know me? Well don't bother."

"So what?" Blair asked. "Are you just going to trap yourself in here with the room service twins?"

"It's a good start," he replied coolly.

"If I were anyone else, your attempts at pushing me away would work," Blair said. "As luck would have it, you have me."

"I never asked for it."

"You did," Blair said sharply.

"I don't need you to take care of me," Chuck said darkly.

"No," Blair said. "You don't. But as much as you hate to admit it, you want me to."

Chuck stood at the door in a trance as Blair turned her back on him and departed with a simple, "Goodbye, Chuck."

As soon as she rounded the corner, he slammed the door closed. He leaned his head against the strong wood, feeling emotions he never asked for welling up within him.

Then again, he had never asked for her either. But he knew that despite that fact, he would never be able to live without her again.

So he did what she asked and called the room service twins.

Because he was weak and she deserved better.

**Feelings**

_I don't think you ran away because you couldn't handle death. I think it's because you couldn't handle feelings._

It was just a coping mechanism. When she showed up at his door with Nate by her side to drag him to his own father's funeral, that was just what he had to do to convince himself. The way her face fell for a split second before hardening into a cold mask. The way her face changed the second she saw those sluts in his bed.

It was just a coping mechanism.

He just wished it were more effective. Even sloshed to the point of incoherency, her expression still cut him to the core.

"We should have just drove him to the door and dropped him off on the steps."

Nate's arm was wrapped around his back, supporting most of his weight. But she was on his right. His arm was clutched in hers, and even in his drunken stupor, he knew that no one would ever smell as good as she did.

"No one should see him like this."

Her voice was commanding, and it didn't surprise him that she'd had Nate under her thumb for so many years. He felt himself leaning towards her, but then he remembered. He remembered how cold this world was and how pushing her away was the only way to survive the breakdown that the alcohol was suppressing.

She had always been there. It was always her name flashing across the screen of his phone. It was always her kicking any girl out of his room. It was always her who constantly kept him afloat, never allowing him drown when he knew it would just be so much easier to do so.

"Whatever you're going through, I want to be there for you."

And he paused. He waited, feeling her tempting presence while the door of his limo lay open.

He should have just walked away. Sooner than he did. But he just wanted to hear her say it.

"And why would you do that?"

He knew it was coming. He wanted nothing more than to hear it, even if logic told him he never would. Logic had been telling him that for months now, but she was gazing up at him with those beautiful eyes of hers, and for a moment, he deluded himself.

"Because," she said softly. "I love you."

Their hands were linked, and he desperately wanted to keep it that way. He wanted to hold her hand and kiss her lips. But she was looking at him. Really looking at him like no one would ever do. He knew that. He had always known that.

And it scared him.

She was so vulnerable and so loving. She loved _him_—and he just couldn't do it.

"Well that's too bad."

He refused to look at her face. Because he knew if he saw the tears streaking her face, he would fall for it. He would allow himself to love her. And that was just something that he could not do.

"Don't turn away from the people that love you."

He should have stayed away. He didn't deny that he felt vindication in seeing the shock and fear on his stepmother's face. He didn't deny that he blamed her for it. He blamed her, because he knew that he could never stop blaming himself. She was so convinced of her being in the right that he couldn't respect her.

"They're the only chance any of us has."

He couldn't deny that her words meant something. He knew she didn't intend them as he took them. But he was taking them. He was taking them all the way to the Waldorf Penthouse, and even though there was clearly a wedding occurring on the day of his father's funeral, it didn't matter.

Because Blair Waldorf loved him.

"What do you think you're doing here?"

He didn't know. He didn't know what he was doing, and he didn't know what he expected her reaction to be. All he knew was that he loved her, whether he could admit it to her face or not. So he looked at her, and it was then that he knew they were supposed to be together. He couldn't let his train of thought go that far, but in the back of his mind, he just knew it.

Because her arms encircled his neck, and for a moment, he just let himself feel her. He felt her sweet breath against his neck, and finally, he grasped her close. He clenched her body in his, fearful of her knowledge that there was an actual tear traveling down his face.

But it didn't matter. It couldn't. Because she was holding him. And nothing seemed to matter.

It didn't take him long to drift into unconsciousness. For the past week his life had been filled with endless lays and bottomless bottles of alcohol. But this was the first time that he was untainted by anything. He felt most at home in her bed. He could feel her eyes on him, but it was the way it was supposed to be. Her dress was white and silk, and he knew it was just foreshadowing of something that he could never admit out loud that he wanted.

When he fell asleep, he could finally think that to himself. He could finally be loved.

She was still wrapped around him. His eyes fluttered open as he rolled onto his back. It was still well into the hours of the night, and for a minute, he just lay there. He felt her arm strewn over his waist and he just lay there. She was perfect and she had given herself to him like she had the first time.

And it was too much.

She was just too much.

She had him in her bed. She had his affection, though it was nonverbal. He knew that she could easily have his monogamy and it wasn't right.

It was too much.

She had opened so much of herself up to him, especially when he didn't deserve it. So many times before she had eviscerated his being just because she could. But now was the time she was letting him in and he knew he couldn't do it.

He gently rolled onto his side, brushing her chocolate curls behind her ear.

She was wearing white and it frightened him how much he desired to see her in it. This was too comfortable, too miraculous to be his. He knew what his father would say. He remembered words months ago that compelled him to stand her up in Tuscany and he wouldn't do that again.

This would be a clean break.

He would have kissed her goodbye. But she had such a tight grip on him, that she would sink her nails into his back, and he would never want to leave her again. She would delude him into thinking that he could handle her when he knew that he couldn't.

_I'm sorry for everything._

_You deserve better._

_Don't come looking for me._

So he ran. And he would keep running. Because with her, his feelings were too accessible. With her, he knew he could actually be happy.

And there was nothing more frightening.


	21. The Hurt Locket

**A/N**: Funny story: I had a completely different plan for 'Sexting' at the beginning. But I'm really afraid that everything is getting repetitive so I'm trying to switch it up. Emphasis on trying. Okay, not that funny. I actually am really afraid this is getting boring and old. So I hope you're still reading.

**Summary**: She had forgotten the novelty of it all. She had forgotten what it was like for her first few times with him, and now that this was a reconciliation after that, so much time apart, it was just that much better.

**Disclaimer**: Quotes and such belong to GG. Thanks to my beloved beta, **comewhatmay.x** who comes up with all of that fashion-y stuff, because when it comes down to it, I am hopeless when it comes to that.

* * *

**Sexting**

_Sexting is not sweet. It's off limits until you're in a relationship._

**R U With Him Rt Now?**

It wasn't the first time that she had gotten a text like that from Chuck. It was more of the tamer messages she had received from him, to be sure.

It wasn't an actual inquiry. Chuck Bass knew exactly where she was and exactly whom she was with. At the time, she didn't think it was anything other than light teasing.

It hadn't even occurred to her that there was something very dark stirring within Chuck. Darker than any emotion he had ever experienced before.

Jealousy.

"Did you get my message?"

Blair felt his hands gently massage the point where her neck met her shoulders and she couldn't help but smirk slyly, and at least attempt to keep her eyes from rolling to the back of her head.

"And what message would you be referring to?" Blair asked after getting her bearings back once more, slightly lightheaded.

She knew he could hear it in her voice from his sinister laugh.

"Playing coy today, are we?" Chuck asked, letting his breath caress behind her ear. "Was it difficult restraining yourself while he droned on about the color of his tie?"

Blair squirmed slightly with the desire to escape, hating how he had the upper hand, but with his own hands on her, she found that difficult to accomplish.

"I know you were thinking of me," Chuck said darkly. "With those naughty messages you sent back to me. What would he think of you if he knew exactly what dirty thoughts were swirling around in that pretty head of yours?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?" Blair asked, finally able to turn around and face him.

"Maybe I want to know."

"Maybe you want to know if I'd care what he thought of me or not," Blair said.

At the time, she didn't think it was anything other than light teasing. At the time, she was just a naïve young girl, getting her first taste of passion. But when Chuck threw her down that day, she should have known better. She should have realized exactly what jealousy tasted like.

**What are you wearing?**

Standing in the middle of Bergdorf's with her best friend by her side, Blair couldn't help but come to a halt. It was sudden and obvious, but at least this time she wouldn't have to come up with some outlandish lie if Serena found it.

Like she had to do in the past.

"B?"

She wanted to make one up anyway.

"Nothing."

Serena raised her eyebrows doubtfully before continuing to casually browse the newest Malandrino collection.

**I'm in the middle of Bergdorf's.**

"Blair."

Serena's voice was harsher than it had been before.

Blair couldn't help but notice—until her phone vibrated again.

**Even better.**

And then seconds later.

**What are you wearing?**

"We haven't seen each other for three months, and all you do is text my stepbrother," Serena said in annoyance. She couldn't help it. The way Blair could look so adoringly at a phone even though it was simply for the person on the other end.

She couldn't help but be jealous. Because Blair was happy. She was finally happy. And Serena knew she had never felt that way before. About anyone.

"He's..." Blair started, "persistent."

"Well tell him to stop."

Along with persistent, Chuck Bass was proving to also being impatient.

**Tease.**

"Stop what?" Blair asked innocently.

**Perv**.

Serena suddenly glanced at her suspiciously. Blair used to be better at this. She used to be better at concealing the effect that Chuck had on her.

And concealing the impatient vibrations of her phone. Serena snatched the phone out of Blair's hands before she could stop it.

"_Blair_," Serena said in disgust, snapping the phone shut. Blair scowled before retrieving it back. But upon reading his newest message, she couldn't help but think that out of all of them, that was the one Serena just had to read.

**I know you're wearing those thigh highs I adore.**

And even more.

**How I pulled them off with my teeth in the back of my limo.**

"What?" Blair asked, so very exhausted with Serena's constant disapproval of something that she shouldn't even be ashamed of. Not when they were finally legitimate.

"In the middle of Bergdorf's?" Serena asked.

"I'm going to go try this on," Blair said snappishly before turning on her heel.

."I knew you were wearing thigh highs."

To be frank, Blair never doubted Chuck's ability to sneak into women's changing rooms. That wasn't to say that she wasn't entirely shocked by it. She clutched her hand to her chest in surprise, her eyes widening at him in the mirror as he closed the door softly behind him before locking it.

"Don't stop there," he smirked, before gesturing towards her. "Please. Continue."

"How long have you been here?" Blair asked coldly, before wrenching off her current ensemble, without any modesty in her lingerie set. He almost considered that she knew he was coming for her.

It wouldn't have surprised him.

"Far too long," Chuck drawled suggestively. "You know it's considered to rude to get a gentleman all hot and bothered only to end up not delivering."

"Since when are you a gentleman?" Blair laughed.

"A gentleman brings flowers," Chuck said slowly, rising to his feet behind her. "Does he not?"

"I suppose," Blair said, knowing he of course had something up his sleeve.

"A gentleman can at times be known to bring macarons, can he not?"

Blair turned, not bothering with the dress any longer.

"In certain circumstances," Blair said, hating that he was doing this to her.

"And can a gentleman also be described as bringing presents from various parts of Europe as an apology."

"A gentleman doesn't make a mistake in the first place," Blair taunted.

"But by that definition," Chuck said, brushing off her statement, "one could be considered a gentleman."

"Gentlemen don't accost ladies in dressing rooms," Blair pointed out.

"They do when the lady likes being ravished in one."

In that simple sentence, it was clear that this game of theirs had come to an end, and her fake protests were futile.

"You know," Blair almost moaned as he kissed down her neck. "You seem to be implying that I've been ravished multiple times in dressing rooms. Which is false."

"Really?" Chuck asked heatedly before pressing himself against her once again. "My implication wasn't reserved specifically for dressing rooms."

"Oh?" Blair asked conversationally, a contrast to their passionate fingers pulling at each other's clothes.

"I was implying that I can get you naked anywhere with me," Chuck groaned as she made quick work of his belt.

"Is that a challenge?" Blair asked.

"No," he answered, pulling at her own barriers. "It's a fact. Because the fact is you let me pleasure you in the back of a restaurant yesterday."

"I don't recall."

Then again, he was making her moan in that way that he did, and she couldn't exactly recall anything.

"You have got to be kidding."

Blair remembered. She remembered how once, not so long ago, Serena would constantly dash off with random suitors, abandoning her best friend so inconsiderately. But Blair just couldn't find it in herself to regret walking out of that dressing room, hand in hand with Chuck Bass with hasty kisses, to Serena's dismay.

Chuck wasn't random. Chuck was Chuck. And it wasn't her fault that he was so insatiable.

"Sister," Chuck grinned. "What a coincidence seeing you here."

Serena couldn't help but resent him. How he could snatch her best friend's attention away from her without even trying. How he could coerce her into public displays of indecency and Blair wouldn't even bat an eyelash. How he could get her to do anything with a simple look, and Serena used to have to beg Blair to go out with her.

Then again, Blair was happy. Actually happy this time.

"I'm sure," Serena said tersely. "But we were shopping."

And her best friend and her stepbrother shared a look, and Serena knew they were conversing without having to even say a word.

"You know where I'll be waiting, darling," Chuck husked into Blair's hair before turning away. Serena couldn't help but watch in surprise as Chuck sauntered off.

"He really calls you that?" Serena couldn't help but ask curiously.

"Ironically," Blair shrugged.

"I don't think it is," Serena said simply. Because she knew that her best friend was only restraining herself for her benefit. And she knew a lot had changed since she left for Europe.

Blair was actually looking bashful as she began looking through the formal wear.

"We were still shopping together," Serena said, unable to stop herself form feeling irked.

"I'm sorry," Blair said genuinely. "But there's nothing wrong with it. We're in a relationship."

They both knew that Blair wasn't talking about the hasty coupling in the dressing room.

"Are you really going to try and convince me that you and Chuck didn't sext before the summer?"

It was at that point that Blair kept her mouth shut.

Because they both knew the answer to that.

**Restraint and Control**

_Everyone needs to play games. Look, you've already come out of the gate without any restraint and control. Now all you can do is introduce some competition. Make him work for it._

His kisses were sweet and full of promise. And even though he kept whispering how much he loved her while she clutched wrapped gifts at his back, she couldn't help but be very aware of that sleek, black limo idling behind them. And after all this time, it filled her with that familiar heat that certainly could not be satiated while standing on a public street.

Blair had no idea where everything she was holding had gone, but suddenly her back was pressed against the car door, and it didn't matter. She vaguely remembered Chuck holding something as well, but his hands were all over her body, and she couldn't be bothered to wonder where it had all gone.

It wasn't long before the door to his suite was closing behind them and she found herself breathless and sighing again.

She had forgotten the novelty of it all. She had forgotten what it was like for her first few times with him, and now that this was a reconciliation after so much time apart, it was just that much better.

It was some hours later, when her eyes finally fluttered open, and she felt warmth spread through her stomach at the feeling of their real and physical connection, which was still very apparent and literal. She felt him start to stir awake at his groan, his weight still sprawled on top of her. And in that exact moment, she felt an all-encompassing fear flow through her.

She knew her body had suddenly stiffened because he was pulling away from her, suspicion clouding his eyes.

"What is it?"

His eyes were dark and probing, and she had forgotten the certain disadvantage there was to someone who knew you so well.

"Nothing."

"Are you really going to go as far as trying to lie to me?"

But his voice wasn't accusing. It was taunting and seductive, and again, she had forgotten what it was like to be with Chuck Bass.

That wasn't the problem.

The problem was she had just fucked some guy who—despite how many times he proclaimed his love for her—technically wasn't her boyfriend. And as many times as she found herself stripping down for him, she wasn't a slut. And even though she had done so in the past, her days of sleeping with someone who wasn't her boyfriend were over.

After this, at least.

She let him seduce her one last time. But her resolve was strong. It wouldn't happen again.

He had to work for it.

.

He wasn't stupid. Then again, if even Nate had woken up the next day to see the woman whom he had finally declared his love for had vacated his bed, he would have realized something was wrong too.

He knew from early that morning, something had been strange. The way she had stiffened, and that fake innocence with those wide doe eyes. He knew it. But she was so bare, and so slick beneath him, that he couldn't help but indulge in that addiction he never wanted to kick.

Standing in the middle of the first party of the summer, he regretted that. Because instead of the fear and confusion that tainted his form, all he felt was that familiar anger and—of course—jealousy.

"Chuck."

She batted those eyelashes of hers, and he did the customary sweep of her outfit.

Of course it didn't disappoint. But her voice was casual and nonchalant, and he hated it. Almost as much as he hated the Blue-Blood on her arm.

Blonde, tall, athletic. She knew exactly what to do to make him self-destruct.

"What a surprise," she said. "I had no idea you would be here."

"You're surprised that I'd show up to a party at my stepmother's house?" Chuck repeated.

"Well Lily's been out of town for awhile," Blair said. "I only assumed."

Chuck nodded, but he couldn't help but stare down her accessory hanging wordlessly from her arm.

Not such a surprise.

"Oh, where are my manners," Blair said laughingly, and the whole display made him want to be violently ill. "Chuck, this is Graham. Graham, this is my best friend's stepbrother, Chuck."

Graham offered his hand but Chuck just ignored it.

"Your best friend's stepbrother," Chuck repeated. "That's how you're going to introduce me?"

"What else did you have in mind?" Blair asked.

"It doesn't really matter to me what label you put on it," Chuck said. "Your mistress, concubine, lover... _boyfriend_."

The only solace Chuck could garner was the discomfort this _Graham_ was exhibiting.

"What really matters is that you spent all of last night with me on top of you," Chuck smirked. "Call it what you like."

"Blair-" Graham cleared his throat, but Blair was so upset that she spun on her heel before stomping up the stairs.

"Well that went swimmingly," Chuck remarked before shouldering past him in pursuit of Blair.

It didn't take him long to find her. He knew exactly where she was going as he opened the door of the room.

"Now I know."

She was sitting on the bed that used to belong to him, the dirty girl scout painting above her head that he had yet to move to his new place.

"Now you know what?" Chuck retorted. "That I'm so easily resorted to a jealous neurotic when it comes to you?"

"Are you really doing this?" Blair asked coldly.

"You were the one who brought another guy to my stepmother's penthouse."

"You were the one who humiliated me."

"By telling the truth?" Chuck asked.

"You know what you did," Blair warned.

"And what about what you did?" Chuck asked. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"No, I did," Blair replied.

"What does that mean?"

"What do you think it means?" Blair asked. "The minute some guy tells me he loves me, I immediately rip my clothes off. What sort of message do you think that sends?"

"That's what you're worried about?" Chuck asked. "Being promiscuous? Our first night together, you lost your virginity. I think that ship has sailed."

"What would you have me do?" she asked.

"How about not bringing dates to parties that you know I'll be attending."

"I've already failed to show any restraint," Blair said. "What else can I do to keep your interest in me?"

"You're afraid I'm going to get bored?" Chuck asked in disbelief.

"It wouldn't be the first time."

"That was different," Chuck pointed out. "You weren't putting out for Nate. It's always been different with us."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because I'm your boyfriend, and I don't want you to administer any restraint," Chuck said in frustration.

"Really," Blair said slowly, leaning back on her elbows against the bed.

And this was the first sort of game that he knew he would like.

"Yes," Chuck replied in the same drawn-out tone as he slunk towards her. "And I know you don't either."

"What makes you say that?"

But she was already sprawled against the bed, and in an instant, he was sliding against her to the encouraging sounds she was making at the back of her throat.

"This is Eric's bed," Chuck said, he wanted nothing more than to not remove her attention from below his belt.

"I don't care."

Chuck never had any qualms with letting Blair lose control.


	22. The Lady Vanished

A/N: It makes me so happy that you guys are still reading. More than I thought were, definitely. As for the inqueries whether I will continue this into Season 4, I had been planning on it. However, after the finale, I'm a little hesitant about it. There are some amazing allusions in it, but I think I need to see if Season 5 will be any good first. Also, as you the accusation that foreceful males are prominent in my stories, well-there's no denying that. Chuck Bass had a very overpowering poersonality. It wasn't anything I was consciously doing, it was just how the stories turned out. I've written these vignettes months before I published, so sorry if anyone is offended, but that's just how it was written before any reviews were made and that's how it's going to be. On a lighter note, those who are tired of Chuck's canon qualities, Blair is, of course, and empowered female. And she makes good use of that in this chapter. Sorry for the ramble.

Summary: He pushed her away. He pushed her hands, her tears, and her heart away. And even at The Oak Room when she gazed at him through the glass, he left. Because it was the only way he could survive.

Disclaimer: Quotes and characters belong to Gossip Girl. Thanks always to my wonderful beta **comewhatmay.x**, who puts up with me, no matter how much stuff I send her. Just a shameless plug: I now have a Tumblr, so if anyone wants to follow me, the link is on my profile. Also thanks to **The Very Last Valkyrie** who remembers restaurant names when I don't feel like looking them up.

* * *

**Talk**

_If he's still upset, I just want him to be able to talk to me._

_Well, how do you usually pull these things out of him?_

_Pretty much what you just heard._

A splash of vodka and she's worried. Chuck doesn't drink vodka. He drinks scotch, and whiskey, and anything that decays his liver to more of a degree than it already is. Vodka is for drunk teenage girls at Ke$ha concerts, vomiting over their sequined dress. So because of this, Blair decides to be worried.

But she also decides not to show it.

"Where've you been?"

At least he was talking to her now.

"Out," Blair said evasively, relieved that his eyes were following her again. "Why so inquisitive?"

But they both knew the answer to that. The answer lay in his silence, and she had to roll her eyes at his stubbornness. She was so tired of it all, and she was going to end it this night.

"I didn't know where you were," Chuck finally answered.

"You didn't seem so desperate to see each other every hour of every day," Blair replied. She turned and saw his stony gaze, but she knew him well enough to know that she was getting through to him. He was leaning against the doorframe and she knew how close she was to him.

"Blair," he said sternly. She straightened, returning his cold gaze. His eyes followed her arm as she pulled her zipper so her dress pooled at her feet. She walked towards him clad in nothing but lingerie and heels, his eyes never straying from her form.

"Do you mind?" she asked. "If you're going to stay up late working, I was going to go to bed."

Blair propped her hand against the frame of the door.

"I was worried."

It was clear at this moment she was only going to be going to bed with Chuck by her side.

"Good."

"Using your tricks on me?" Chuck asked easily.

"Is it working?"

"You knew it was working the second you walked in that door."

His arms encircled her waist, and she let him walk her backwards to the bed, their limbs intertwined. Their bodies hit the bed as she clutched his head to her neck. She looped her arm around his back, trying to get at her heels.

"Leave them."

Blair looked up at him, and his eyes were so darkened with lust, that she knew she finally had his attention. She smiled victoriously, closing her eyes again, following an instinct that never failed her. And she found vindication as he groaned, her heels leaving gouges in the middle of his back.

She knew he liked it.

"I'm sorry."

He had been quiet for so long after his last grand sound of gratification that she truly thought her plan hadn't worked. But she smiled to herself, not rolling over to look at him just yet.

His hand shifted her hair from her neck, causing her to finally face him.

"Sorry for what?"

"Blair."

Sometimes, he knew that she was just not in the mood for games.

"You really know how to extract information from me."

"I just want you to be able to talk to me," Blair said softly. And they both knew how hard it was for the both of them to admit their feelings. Too much pride, too much at stake.

"I'm trying," Chuck said. "I can't be a failure to you."

"Just because Lily's gone, doesn't mean you're a failure," Blair said. Chuck's arms tightened around her and she knew exactly what the problem was.

"No one will ever take me seriously," Chuck said. "I hate the way I push you away. But I hate the way those people look at me. The doubt. The disrespect."

"Chuck," Blair said into the darkness. "It's just your birthday. You don't have to think of it as the day she died."

"But she did."

"So did Bart," Blair said. "But you're still here."

"And?"

"And I'm glad."

She felt his face pressing into her hair.

"For the first time in my life," Chuck said, "I think I'm going to be alright."

They both knew the end of that train of thought.

_Because of you._

And Blair could breathe again.

**Easy**

_God, I miss that._

_What?_

_Dating someone who's a horrible liar. So much easier._

She had always known. It had nothing to do with her ability. But when it came down to it, it was much easier to deny everything than admit to another one of Nathaniel Archibald's lies.

No matter how much she knew it was true.

"I really need you to help me out here. Promise?"

"Promise what?"

Seeing her boyfriend and that little blonde interloper had immediately sent her into a tailspin. But she knew better than to let Nate into this thought process. She sat beside them casually, knowing that they couldn't be talking about anything casual themselves. She knew this life. And she knew exactly what she had signed up for.

Nate might have been having second thoughts, but when it came to the Upper East Side, Blair knew the cost.

"Uh, promise to come up with a more creative apology than these."

Blair looked down at the chocolates in his hands. She knew moments ago he had just been offering them to Jenny, but she couldn't very well find out what was going on here if she put up a fight.

So she did what she did best. She pretended.

"That is sweet," she crooned.

And yet, she still couldn't resist.

"I prefer the Gold Collection, but thank you."

She made sure to kiss Nate in front of Jenny as the young girl looked at the ground uncomfortably. It didn't take long for Blair to dismiss Nate and follow her up the stairs.

"I hate secrets more than anything," she vowed.

Even as she sat down beside Nate once again, she felt it. She felt the false way his eyes were on her, and that phony grin he always thought could play her for a fool.

She watched him excuse himself for class, but all Blair could do was stay seated at the table, glaring after him.

"Looks like I got here just in time."

Blair didn't bother looking at him as Chuck sat beside her.

"I thought you were giving the pitch to Bart," Blair said distantly.

"It seems promising."

Blair turned at his words, and it was the first true smile he had seen on her in awhile.

"Really?" she asked.

"Don't sound so surprised."

"I'm happy for you."

And it was the first time he believed it.

"So why aren't you happy for you?"

"Shouldn't you be on Nate's side of things?"

"Ah," Chuck said, understanding. "Nate."

"He must think I'm really an idiot."

"No," Chuck disagreed. "Nate's just an idiot."

"He really thinks that I don't know," Blair said, as though she hadn't even heard him. "He really don't hear it in his voice every time he lies to me."

"But you love him," Chuck sighed.

"I love how easy it is," Blair said. "It would be much harder to decipher deceit from someone who was like me."

"So that's what it comes down to, is it?" Chuck asked. "Easiness. Or fun."

That did it for her. She knew that whether she had spoken to Chuck or not, this was the end of the line for her. Looking at the pitiful way that Nate would avoid her gaze once again and his disgusting helplessness, she couldn't take it anymore.

"Do you love me?"

It was as simple as that. In an instant, she had empowered herself. She would no longer be a doormat of a girlfriend who would do anything for validation.

"You should be with your father. He needs you."

It was easier than she expected.

"You know what?"

It was vindicating.

"I don't."

Without a second thought she had slammed the door of the limo behind her and she was on her way. She knew she had promised Chuck she would be there. But she had no idea that Nate would be the catalyst. She had assumed they would have gone together. But she never would have thought that she actually wanted to go.

She never realized how much she wanted to go—without Nate. He was always there. Looking down at her snide remarks and cold truthfulness.

But Chuck never did that. This should have worried her.

"Where's Nate?"

It didn't.

"I think we just broke up."

Chuck was quiet, but followed, and it was the first time that she felt good about anything in her life.

"I know what you're doing, Bass. You really don't think I'll do it."

"I know you won't do it."

It had been such a simple sentence. And even though she allowed herself to succumb to the dark side of human nature, she still knew what Chuck was doing.

And she let him.

Just like she let herself ascend those stairs into the devil's lair. Because as Chuck Bass toasted her with an impressed smile she had never seen before, she loved all of it. For the first time, she could let herself go. For the first time, she didn't need to control anything.

So she flounced back down the steps, collapsing on the couch next to Chuck. It didn't matter that her head had lolled onto his shoulder with exhaustion or that her now bare thighs were touching his intimately. He was smirking down at her, and she felt strangely...exhilarated. She felt excited and alive—more than she ever had in her life.

She should have realized this warning. She should have shied away from the fire that was so close to burning her. But she had never been admired before. She fell into the trap he had no idea he was weaving, and before either of them could tell, he had fallen into hers as well.

"I really do feel relief."

Chuck looked over at her, the music starting to kick up again in the midst of dancing girls.

"So we're talking about it now?" Chuck asked.

"I know you don't believe me," Blair laughed bitterly.

"I always believe you."

"You're the only one," Blair said. "I don't deserve it."

"Neither do I," Chuck said. "But you're the first person I told about this."

"He was just too..." Blair sighed, "easy."

"Is that why you're still a virgin?" Chuck smirked.

"When you take away all of the cheating, pining, and deceit," Blair said, "it was too easy."

"You were bored," Chuck mused.

"I suppose," Blair said, never thinking of it that way before. "But when it comes down to it, I was out of his league."

"Were you now," Chuck said. "I'm intrigued."

"I deserve someone who is more my speed," Blair said. "I can't be with someone-"

"Who lies to you."

"Who is just so transparent."

"So you were bored," Chuck smirked. And finally, Blair smiled.

"Yes," she finally admitted. "Yes I was."

"You need someone who won't judge you," Chuck said. "You need someone who admires your scheming and wildness. Not someone who looks down on it."

"My wildness?" Blair laughed.

"No one sees it," Chuck said. "But it's there. Just beneath the surface. Burning and electrified, ready to explode."

"You seem to know a lot on this subject," Blair remarked.

"If you haven't noticed," Chuck said, "I myself have a wild side."

"You don't say," Blair laughed.

"When was the last time you laughed with Nate?"

"Today."

"I mean really," Chuck said. "When was the last time you actually had fun."

He loved that smirk on her lips.

"Tonight."

"And who were you with?" Chuck asked.

"You," Blair sneered teasingly.

"That's what I thought," he said. "Do you need a lift home?"

"You mean you're not leaving me to get picked up by one of your drunken patrons?" Blair asked. "I'm charmed. Always so chivalrous."

"Only for you."

He got to his feet, offering his hand to her. Their fingers interlocked, and as he pulled her next to him, he had to reprimand himself. His hands were dangerously on her waist and he had to remind himself that she was his best friend's very recent ex.

That thought was very clear in his mind.

And then he saw that hem. The one that was technically her underwear even though it looked like a dress.

He was looking at Blair Waldorf in her underwear. His hands were on her waist, she was looking up at him, and he was about to give her a ride home.

He tried to restrain himself. He really did.

Or at least that's what he told himself. But in fact, he had offered to give her a ride home. He was the one who dared her to dance for him. He had instigated this entire night. The moment he heard the words_ I think we just broke up_, it was all him. He had been working Blair the moment she arrived, and he wasn't about to stop now.

"You were...amazing up there."

Nothing was easier than that.

**Push**

_I've known Chuck my whole life. And he's better than anyone I know at pushing people away._

"Three words. Eight letters. Say it, and I'm yours."

It wasn't the first time he had done it. But it was the first time he actually realized he was doing it. Seventeen and listening to his father lecture him on the importance of selflessness and responsibility.

It had been too much. Not three months later, and things were so different.

"Don't you see? We're the same. Now stop trying to fight it."

Because the fight was futile. Because they were so magnetic and compulsive that all they could do was crash and crash into each other again and again with no regard for anyone but each other. That's the way it was. That's the way it always would be.

And yet, he had to do it.

This time, it was him sustaining only himself this time. He couldn't handle it. He couldn't handle this vulnerability and the very real possibility that she could just walk away from him even after he did say it.

"Thank you. That was all I needed to hear."

So he didn't. And even as he pathetically filled his glass with scotch, he knew it wasn't the end. Yes, he had pushed her away. But he was going to push himself into her a hell of a lot harder.

Once he got rid of the Lord.

"I want to be there for you."

"And why would you want to do that?"

"Because... I love you."

"Well that's too bad."

It wasn't the first time he had done it. But it was the first time he had done it on purpose.

She was too beautiful. The way she stood before him with her caring eyes and open heart. She had told him she _loved_ him.

And he didn't deserve it. Bart was dead because of him—because of what he did. And it wasn't fair.

So he closed the door in her face. He had to save her. He wanted her to be happy.

But he wanted her more. And it was exactly what he had been afraid of. Taking solace in her arms. In his mourning clothes while she shined in the white love of a wedding.

She was the only person to ever see him cry.

And he still hurt her more. He told her the truth, but he had to hurt her again.

Because he was Chuck Bass.

"Hello to you too, lover."

His smoke clouded her visage, but he couldn't find it in himself to do anything else. She grabbed his face and looked into his cold eyes, only to see nothing. But her hands were still on him and he would hurt her if it made her touch him again.

"I thought you sold this place."

"I bought it back last night. But it took me to the cleaners. Some things are worth the price."

He had to hurt her. Because it made him relieved when she just boomeranged right back towards him again. Even though he was wallowing in the sordid entertainment of Victrola, women hanging off of his every angle, she was the only one to ever look at him like that.

"Why did you even come back?"

It hurt his heart to watch her walk away. And that was probably how he ended up on that roof. Because the only thing he could ever take comfort in was her love. And no one could ever love him like Blair Waldorf.

No matter what he said.

"Stop trying to play the _wife_."

It was easy to hurt her. It was easy when she was so open. A clean shot and pain flooded her eyes. The same pain when she saw him on that roof, when she walked into that boardroom, when he arrived on that elevator.

But this time, she threw him away. She threw his flowers at his feet.

Because he had hurt her one too many times.

"Tell me if what you feel for me is real. Or it's just a game."

It wasn't the first time he had done it. But it was the first time he did it to make her happy. The way they clung to each other wasn't healthy. Not when they just couldn't get the timing right. He loved her so much. But he couldn't tell her.

That was the problem.

"It's just a game. You know how I hate to lose."

Once again, tears flooded her big eyes, and it was all he could do not to pull her back and kiss her so hard that she realized his lies.

But he restrained himself.

"Thank you."

Because he loved her so damn much.

"Leave me alone."

It wasn't the first time he had done it. But it was the last. How the words _Jack_ and _New Year's_ were still burned into his retinas and everyone had been watching them as they fought.

"You're not mad at me because of that."

"Stop telling me how I feel."

Because he couldn't take it. He couldn't take how well she knew him and how easy it would have been just to pull her astride his lap, and take her on that couch.

"We're just doing what we always do. Well I won't do it anymore. I love you."

He was so close. So close that her hands cupped his face and tears welled in her eyes once again.

"Tell me you love me. And all the gossip and the lies and the hurt will have been for something."

So he did it.

But just one last time.

"Maybe it was. But it's not anymore."

He pushed her away. He pushed her hands, her tears, and her heart away. And even at The Oak Room when she gazed at him through the glass, he left. Because it was the only way he could survive.

"Where is she?"

Never had he considered falling so far, so fast. But he was calling his stepsister on a suicide mission. Because there was no way she would help him.

"_Chuck_," Serena said tersely. "_She does get Gossip Girl, you know._"

"I just need to know where she is."

He was that close to begging.

"_You ran away_," Serena said. "_Again. For a week. What makes you think she's going to take you back?_"

"I love her."

_"I know."_

"I love her."

_"Are you willing to tell her that?"_ Serena asked.

"I just need to know," Chuck answered.

"_If I tell you_," Serena said, "_you have to promise_."

Chuck listened intently and Serena continued.

"_You have to promise that it's for good this time_," she said. "_No more running away. No more tears. Promise that you'll make her happy._"

"I'll try."

"_Chuck_."

"I promise she has never been more happy or herself than with me," Chuck said. "And I will spend every day convincing her that I deserve her."

"_Alright, then,_" Serena conceded. "_She just left Rouge Tomate."_

"Thank you."

"_Chuck_," Serena said after a moment. "_Are you back?"_

Chuck paused.

_"Where are you?"_

"I'm standing outside her building."

"_Chuck_-"

But he hung up. He stood a little taller, held the flowers a little bit higher. Because Blair was walking tentatively towards him. And he knew exactly what to do.

"I love you too."

All he needed was a little push.


	23. Sixteen Year Old Virgin

Summary: He could tell from her voice. She was so good at bringing men to their knees. But he wasn't some high school boy. And he knew why she matched a Bass so well.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Quotes belong to GG as well as characters. Credit to my awesome beta **comewhatmay.x**.

* * *

**Bad Boy**

_You know what's most attractive about a bad boy?_

_No. I really don't._

_Your parents refusing to let you see him._

Serena tried not to get involved. She had never wanted to get sucked into her best friend's sudden drama, but when it came to Blair, there wasn't anything she wouldn't do for her.

And when it came to Chuck, she knew there was nothing that he wouldn't do.

That was what initially worried Serena. It wasn't that Blair had lost her virginity. It wasn't that she had moved on so quickly from Nate. And to an extent, she wasn't that perturbed by the fact that Chuck was Nate's best friend—though that was certainly a problem.

What it came down to was the fact that he was Chuck Bass. He was a boozing, lecherous, shameless womanizer. He had no conscience or moral compass to speak of. And he didn't care who he hurt. That was what worried Serena. Blair was so new and naïve to this world that she couldn't understand the lengths that guys would go to just to get laid.

At least, that had been her initial impression. She had truly thought that Blair was just another girl to Chuck. But Blair canceling their shopping plans and those constant texts she would get was starting to make Serena doubt herself.

Blair was happy. She had a...glow. And that made Chuck Bass even more dangerous.

"Where were you last night?"

Blair stopped, sushi halfway to her mouth as she stared at Serena. She finally put down her chopsticks and casually crossed her legs.

"Humphrey wasn't keeping you entertained?" Blair asked. "You need to tag along on my social schemes?"

"That's where you were?"

"What's with the third degree?"

"Why are you avoiding the question?"

"Why are you so interested?"

Serena took a deep breath. She knew she was stepping on a land mine, but Blair's ire was worth it if she just made it clear that Serena thought her best friend was making a mistake.

Not that it would sink in.

"I'm worried about you," Serena finally said.

"And there it is," Blair rolled her eyes with an exhausted sigh.

"Chuck's dangerous, Blair," Serena said. "You don't know what he's capable of."

"If you're referring to the roof at the Kiss On the Lips party," Blair said, "don't bother."

"He told you?" Serena asked in disbelief.

"Of course he told me," Blair said. "It's Chuck."

"Exactly," Serena said. "It's Chuck. He's diabolical and he's soulless, and there isn't anything he won't do. Trust me, I know."

"Don't play the martyr act, Serena," Blair said disdainfully. "So he's made some mistakes. You're not exactly the Virgin Mary."

"He may have told you about Jenny, but did he tell you about me?" Serena asked. "And what he tried to do to me in the kitchen in The Palace?"

"Don't make me choose between the two of you," Blair said.

"As if it's even a choice," Serena replied. "You didn't answer the question."

"You may not want to admit it to yourself," Blair said, "but it is a choice. You were gone for almost a year. Things are different now. And it doesn't matter that he didn't tell me. It isn't exactly a secret that you got around."

"So you're saying I deserved to have him force himself on me," Serena stated.

"You didn't tell me," Blair pointed out. "Does anyone else even know? Because from where I'm standing, it doesn't seem like it was a big deal to you either."

"We were fighting," Serena defended.

"Did you tell your mom?" Blair asked. "Eric? Your stalker from Brooklyn?"

Serena was at a loss for words.

"I don't need you to protect me," Blair said. "I wish Chuck hadn't done the things that he did. But it's in the past. And it's obvious I know him better than you do. And you don't know what you're talking about."

"But he's scheming and manipulative," Serena said. "Do you really want to be with someone like that?"

"You mean someone like me," Blair stated blandly.

"No," Serena said in frustration. "I just want you to be careful."

"Thanks, Mom," Blair said. "But I think I've got it covered."

Serena watched in desperation as Blair put her napkin down on the table, before throwing down a couple of bills.

"I'm sorry, but I have somewhere to be."

"Somewhere with him, you mean?" Serena couldn't help but ask.

"Somewhere that I'm not being judged," Blair said. "And he doesn't do that."

Serena watched as her best friend turn on her heel before exiting the restaurant. Serena wished it was as simple as that, but as she followed Blair, she knew that the night wasn't over.

"What are you doing here?"

Blair's voice was tired, but Serena couldn't help but notice the pleasure lacing her words.

"Don't sound so happy to see me."

Hesitating by the hostess' podium, she saw Chuck Bass smirking at her best friend right by the glass door. She couldn't help but feel shocked. Because never in her life had she seen Chuck smile at anyone like that.

And it worried her—even more.

"Am I ever happy to see you?" Blair asked in a teasing manner, and Serena couldn't help but watch the tennis match between the two of them.

"I would say so," Chuck drawled. "Sometimes your greetings are downright...orgasmic."

Blair leaned against the doorframe and Serena hated the intimate way Chuck crowded her space, placing his hand above her head, their bodies fitting together comfortably. Blair had told her that things had changed since she had left. And she knew it must have been true. Because she never remembered them acting like that towards each other before.

"You didn't call me," Chuck continued, nonchalantly, pulling his fingers through her hair.

"You knew I was with Serena."

"The night ended early, I see?"

"She had some upsetting things to say," Blair answered. "About you."

"I really wish you hadn't told her," Chuck answered. "That being said, maybe the time has come we inform Nathaniel about us."

"We're not talking about this again."

"Serena already knows."

"She made that clear," Blair said, "along with your indiscretion with her in The Palace's kitchen."

"Why are you bringing that up?"

"It's just a fact."

"A fact that you knew about since it happened."

It made Serena ill. How comfortable they were with each other and how casual everything seemed to be. Like Chuck knew Blair better than anyone else.

It bothered Serena.

"She thought I didn't."

"Why?"

"Because I'm with you."

"I really wish you hadn't told her."

"I didn't _tell_ her," Blair said. "She walked in because someone neglected to lock the door."

"I wasn't aware that you were going to jump me," Chuck smirked. "I'll make accommodations next time. That is what the limo is for, after all."

"I wasn't planning on meeting you tonight, Chuck," Blair said brusquely, pushing away his wandering hands. He let her escape him, only to pull her to his side again.

"I missed you," he said seductively into her ear.

Serena had every intention of confronting them. She thought about breaking them up and separating them.

She didn't know what stopped her. She just stared off as they walked down the street. It was only some months later when she realized what it was that stopped her.

"I still don't get it."

Still trying to restrain tears, Serena looked over to see Nate sitting beside her. She didn't have to wonder what he was talking about. Because there the two of them were. Pretty in pink with a matching dress and bow tie dancing at her mother's wedding.

And subsequently making out furiously on the dance floor. The last time Serena had checked they were just whispering intimately to each other.

Evidently, things had escalated quickly.

"I'm sorry," Nate said, catching the distraught look on Serena's face. "Relationships probably aren't what you want to talk about right now."

"What do you mean?"

"I saw Dan leave after the pictures," Nate said.

"And where's Vanessa?" Serena asked.

"I guess it's just you and me."

"It's alright," Serena said, suddenly calmed but Nate's good-natured smile. "Anything to keep my mind off of him."

She watched as Nate's crystalline gaze returned to the good-looking couple on the dance floor, a superior vision to those dancing around them.

"She was never like that with me," Nate said. Serena watched the way her best friend's hand curled around Nate's best friend's neck and as much as she hated it, things were suddenly clicking for her. "Is it him?"

"There's nothing wrong with you, Nate," Serena said. "Blair and Chuck are just... Blair and Chuck."

"So it his him," Nate said. "I always convinced myself that he seduced her. It was easier to think about when it wasn't her fault."

"It was no one's fault," Serena said. "When two people feel something, they just feel it."

"So she's attracted to it."

"To what?" Serena asked.

"That bad boy thing," Nate said. "That must be it. I just don't get how danger is such an attraction."

"It isn't the bad boy thing," Serena replied, realizing the truth for the first time. "Blair doesn't see Chuck the way everyone else sees him. We've all known each other for a long time."

"Then what is it?" Nate asked. "Because he's my best friend?"

"Blair can be herself with him," Serena said. "And it isn't because it's forbidden. That's just the reason she hid it from you. Chuck accepts her. And that matters to her."

"But he can hurt her."

"Only as much as she can hurt him," Serena replied.

"I don't get it," Nate sighed.

"I know."

**Possession**

_Blair, I have already had everything of Chuck's worth having._

"Come out with me tonight."

"I told you I'm not interested."

"It didn't seem that way on New Year's."

When Jack Bass came back to New York, he had no intention of getting involved in his pathetic nephew's affairs. With his Freudian issues and his womanizing ways that could only be learned by a Bass.

And then he met Blair Waldorf.

Things changed drastically. From the moment he saw her, he knew exactly the reason why Chuck had run. He could see that fragile exterior, and the glowering beneath her surface.

It was true that he had no intention of stealing anything from Chuck other than Bass Industries.

Things changed.

From the moment he saw her, he knew she was dangerous. She was dangerous for Chuck, she was dangerous for the company. She was dangerous for him.

And he liked that.

"So you're the reason my nephew fled the country."

Her eyes were bored, and she had the same dead look about her that Chuck possessed—the one that would make someone tremble.

He would let her make him tremble any time.

"Chuck left because his father's dead."

"You're not one for tact either," Jack said.

"And you are?" Blair asked.

"I prefer mercurial," Jack grinned.

"You're propositioning an eighteen year old in the middle of a New Year's party," Blair answered.

"Eighteen," Jack mused. "Officially an adult."

"And officially not naïve enough to think all you want is conversation."

"You really are self-assured."

"Just wise," Blair said. "I know what it means when a Bass looks at me like that."

"Had much experience in that department, have you?" Jack asked.

"Now I have."

It was no question what his nephew saw in the girl. In the cold and calculating girl that reminded him so much of his own youth, that she actually seemed worth possessing. Almost as much as the company.

It didn't change when he returned with a drunk nephew and a worried girl. It was the first time that dead look about her changed into some semblance of emotion.

And he didn't care. She had proven she would do literally anything to get her beloved Charles back, and Jack would use that to his advantage as he pleased.

She was too beautiful to waste on his pitiful nephew. She as too...fascinating. And the fact that taking hold of her would destroy Chuck even more didn't hurt.

They way her eyes flicked to Chuck with paranoia every time Jack even mentioned their little indiscretion was something just too intriguing to Jack. And the assurance that girl knew how to slum it.

And she had slummed it with him.

"What matters is what it meant to me. Which was nothing."

She was so innocently convicted in the thought that she could bring Chuck back to her. That she could bring him back to her without informing him of her New Year's festivities.

To be eighteen again.

Jack would put a stop to that. Just because he could.

"Don't you have someone your own age to harass?"

He could tell from her voice. She was so good at bringing men to their knees. But he wasn't some high school boy. And he knew why she matched a Bass so well. But his little nephew was a little preoccupied at the moment to see the exact angle his uncle was playing.

"You didn't mind me harassing you before," Jack reminded her.

"All the Bass games are the same," Blair said. "Believe me, I've been there, played that."

"I remember," Jack said. "It was quite the experience."

"Not with _you_," Blair said with disdain.

"But you already have been with me," Jack reminded her. "And staying here amongst my nephew's sickening grief was worth it. Just for that."

"I'm sure there are plenty of whores willing to accommodate you," Blair replied. "There's probably a Bass discount."

"But why would I do that, when Chuck's very own girl has already _accommodated_ me?" Jack asked. Her strong face wavered satisfactorily.

He knew he was definitely going to stay.

"I don't belong to Chuck," Blair all but growled.

"If you say so," Jack said. "But you sure have been stupid enough to give your heart so willingly to a Bass. I can't think of anyone so credulous to think he has the ability to reciprocate."

"So why are you still here?" Blair asked. "You got Chuck back."

"Because I have possessed something positively entrancing," Jack said.

"Bart's will is being read soon," Blair said.

"Why would I care about that," Jack asked, "when you are just so much more satisfying?"

And Jack knew he should be bequeathed a hell of a lot more than just some of Bart's possessions.

**Bad Place**

_I had a lot to drink. Started taking some of those over-the-counter pills they start keeping behind the counter recently. And some meth. I realized I was just in a bad place._

It January 1st, 2009 and Blair Waldorf had every intention of staying in bed.

She had already been wallowing since the beginning of the holidays, but this was the first time she felt as though shutting the curtains and burrowing beneath her covers was actually warranted. She still felt the disgust of hours ago smeared all over her like a stain-guilt, self-loathing, and nausea overwhelming her being.

"Are you going to stay in bed all day again today?"

_Again_.

Eleanor had always been well apt in the art of emotional manipulation. A skill she had passed on to her daughter.

Blair attempted to block out her mother's voice, wrapping her duvet around her that usually blocked out most noise.

"I went out last night," Blair mumbled into her pillow.

"I didn't hear you get in last night."

Blair groaned in frustration, sitting up in bed.

"Why are you so suddenly worried about my comings and goings?" Blair demanded.

"I'm just worried about you, darling," Eleanor sighed.

"Since when?"

"Ever since the funeral-"

"You're right," Blair said, swinging her legs out of bed. "I should go out."

"Blair," Eleanor said in a voice that could have sounded like pleading if Blair didn't know any better.

"I'm getting dressed, Mother," Blair said. "If you don't mind."

Eleanor gave a look as though she were about to object, but just sighed again before closing the door behind her. It was only after Blair finished dressing that she realized her phone had been beeping with a text alert from the night before.

And before she had even reached for it, she realized it wasn't the communication she had been waiting so anxiously for but the one she had been dreading.

**Slipping out of a Bass bed in the middle of the night? You really do know how to leave them wanting more.**

Blair stood in the middle of her room, staring at the text for many moments, pretending that she could ignore the first name on her contact list. For a moment, she could pretend it was the one she had been waiting for, instead of a very different first name.

_Jack_.

Jack Bass and Blair knew exactly where she had to do.

"What the hell do you think you're _doing_?"

Blair couldn't remember being this lucid the night before, but at that very moment, she was downright infuriated.

"Blair."

Scantily clad women trailed out of the room as Blair just stared at his smug face.

"What a pleasant surprise."

"Really?" Blair snapped, stepping forward before realizing why Jack was bent over a glass table. She wrinkled her nose at the white powder drawn into lines.

"So dainty," Jack smirked. "You seemed quite the opposite last night."

"I'm not here about that."

"You're sure you don't want any?" Jack asked, ignoring her statement.

"Thank you," Blair said sneeringly, "but I'd rather not defile my body with narcotic Cocaine."

"It's speed, actually," Jack smirked, and Blair scoffed with disgust. "And you didn't mind how I _defiled_ your body last night."

"What are you even doing here?" Blair demanded, refusing to remember hours prior.

"You mentioned something like that before," Jack mused, his eyes glassy.

"Because the only possible reason you could be here right now is if Chuck was with you," Blair said. "And I don't see him here."

"I don't recall such an arrangement," Jack said coolly.

"You said you would go get him," Blair said. "You promised."

"I just have to wonder what your fixation with my nephew is," Jack said. "What has he ever done for you?"

"I don't expect you to understand," Blair remarked coldly.

"He is my blood," Jack said. "And I know what my blood can do."

"Last night never happened," Blair snapped. "You don't talk about it and you don't think about it. You just go get him back."

Jack rose slowly and Blair felt her feeble body shrink away. He just chuckled.

"As you wish," he answered. "But I can't promise that he'll come back to your receptive arms."

"Just do it," Blair said icily. Jack took careful steps towards her, and she found herself horrified that she couldn't back away.

"Last night did happen," Jack replied. "And it was good."

"For you," Blair replied.

"I won't love you enough to hurt you," Jack said. "I can promise you that. You give poor Chuck too much license. He doesn't deserve it."

"And you do?" she asked.

"I don't pretend," Jack said. "I'll tell you the truth."

"And I'll tell you the truth," Blair said. "You're repugnant."

With that, she turned on her heel, leaving his room.

The next day Jack Bass was gone.

And Blair knew she was sinking further and further into a bad place.


	24. Empire Strikes Jack

Summary: They couldn't understand how agonizing it was, seeing her so perfect for him and just so right. They couldn't understand him loving her so much, and yet, hating her at the same time.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Quotes are from Season 3 of Gossip as usual. Characters the same. Thanks as usual to comewhatmay.x for the beta.

* * *

**Incapable**

_Jack isn't capable of love. He is using you. He is stealing my hotel and then he will leave you._

"You slept with Jack?"

"You slept with Vanessa?"

It was the way it had always been between them. Two equal parts thrashing and fighting against each other. Two people alike that there was no way they could stand to be apart.

But reading the blast across his screen as Blair hovered over him in black lingerie, he felt himself fall apart. So he buttoned his jacket back up, because he could never let her see him break.

He just stalked away from the crowd of teenagers that had crowded around them, needing space. But he couldn't leave. He couldn't stop looking at her incredulously as she walked into the bathroom after a peroxide blonde. He told her exactly what she needed to hear to make her cry. He had always been the best at that. He shoved away her hands and let her tears fall.

But he still couldn't leave.

He still watched her, ignoring the eyes that wouldn't let him rest.

"You didn't have to do that, you know."

He hated it. All of it. He hated the way his best friend's morally sound voice always irritated him. He hated it because the likes of Nate Archibald or Serena van der Woodsen could never understand what it was like. They couldn't understand what it was like, seeing your future taken away by your own blood. They couldn't understand how agonizing it was, seeing her so perfect for him and just so right. They couldn't understand him loving her so much, and yet, hating her at the same time.

Chuck watched as Blair walked out of the bathroom, heading straight for the coat check.

He still watched.

"Chuck."

"Leave me alone."

It was the second time he had said it that night, but this time it only meant half as much. He just needed to understand.

"Serena didn't mean to do anything," Nate reasoned. "You shouldn't have yelled at her."

"Why don't you go comfort her in that unrequited way you've mastered for two years?" Chuck snapped, watching Blair ease her jacket exhaustedly over her perfect shoulders that, barely an hour before, a dress had been slipping so smoothly from.

"You can't blame us for what Blair did," Nate said quietly. At that, Chuck finally wrenched his attention from the brunette across the room.

"Excuse me?"

"It's obvious why you're mad," Nate said.

"Don't," Chuck warned. "Don't pretend to understand anything about this."

"You can't take your anger out on us like that," Nate said. "We didn't do anything."

"Would you rather I do it to her instead?" Chuck asked darkly.

"Chuck-"

"I just don't understand it," Chuck said. "The one thing about her that I don't get."

"Blair slept with Jack."

Chuck didn't look back at Nate.

"You were gone," Nate said. "You just left. You didn't see her, Chuck. I've never seen her like that before. Even Serena had never seen her like that before."

Chuck watched as Blair took her phone from her pocket, checking for something.

He wondered if maybe she was checking if anything was from him.

"Jack could never love her," Chuck said. "If I had known what he did to her, I never would have come back."

"I thought you didn't remember anything about that," Nate said.

"It doesn't matter," Chuck answered. "He would have just left her. He couldn't love her. Not like-"

"Not like you do?" Nate asked. Chuck's eyes were sharp and dangerous, but Nate wasn't afraid anymore. Not when it was clear that Chuck was just like any other heartbroken man.

"Did she really think he could care for her?"

"She wasn't thinking about him at all, Chuck," Nate said. "She was thinking about you. She refused to go out. She kept waiting on news for you. She thought something had happened to you. She called you all the time. She told you she loved you and you just left."

And Chuck's heart broke. Because with one last look around the room, Blair had just left. She had walked away from him; his broken heart impaled on her nails and it was all his fault. He had brought this on himself.

"Do you think I'm better than him?" Chuck asked. At first, Nate wasn't sure what Chuck meant by the question.

"I think no one can make her happier than you," Nate settled on. Chuck's eyes were furious for a moment, and Nate was unsure if what he had said was wrong.

But as Chuck stormed out, he knew he said the exact right thing.

Because Chuck Bass was capable of love. He didn't have the Bass curse. He had darkness and could be ethically bankrupt at times, but he would love Blair more than anyone ever could.

There was no doubt about that.

"I love you too."

There never was.

**Family**

_I have a family._

_So do I, Mr. Conwell. And when you love your family, like we both do, you never want to see them get hurt._

"I will always be your family."

From her earliest moments, Blair always had known that she had a skewed view of family. She didn't live in suburbia with a nuclear family, nor go to public school. She had a maid, car service, and a workaholic mother who pawned everything off on a father who would rather be a friend.

That was all Blair ever had.

And then there were her actual friends.

Serena, who was the closest thing to a sister that Blair could ever have. Flaky and fun with the conscience Blair lacked.

Nate, who, ironically, was the only one she was able to love after they parted for good. The closest thing to a brother that Blair would ever have, because that was all she needed.

And then there was Chuck. Always the outlier, the charming devil—the only one who could see right through her.

That in itself should have been a clue. Because soon he wasn't looking right through her, but thrusting right through her until she couldn't feel anything but him anymore. Chuck was never the brother, never the friend. He was always just Chuck Bass. Chuck Bass who spotted her weaknesses and took her virginity with only the slightest care and ran with it.

And then she ran with him, because, he was always the charming devil, she was the twisted queen, and with him, she would gladly play the role.

Because they were the only true family she had ever had.

And sitting next to her charming devil with his downcast eyes over a broken locket and a mother who refused to be one, she wished he wouldn't hurt. She wished he would accept her kiss to his cheek and her promise. No matter what happened between the two of them, they were a part of each other. No matter what he had done in the past, or anything that he would do in the future, he was her charming devil. And he was her only family member that would ever understand her.

No one could understand. Not outside boyfriends who had a British accents, or conquests with the same initials—none of them could understand her fixation. How even though that man tortured her with slanting eyes and slanting morals, she couldn't let him go. Because she had grown with him and laughed with him and schemed with him, and that was it.

You couldn't let go of your family. No matter how much you wanted to.

And she knew from then on, she would never want to rid herself of Chuck Bass. Not truly. Not deep within the cavity of her chest where her remorse should lay. Not in that dark place where the dark knight beckoned and she succumbed to sin.

So she kissed him on his cheek, and even though he remained rigid as ever, she could see that smile, the one that no one else could decipher.

And she loved him for it. For all of it.

She loved him so much that she took his silence, his indifference, and the way he refused to let her in. Because then came the day when he would look up at her, kiss her, and let everything come out.

It was the exact way she approached some Midwesterner who actually proposed changing her own mother's brand. It wasn't anything she could handle. Eleanor Waldorf was Eleanor Waldorf, and Blair would do anything for her, no matter what her mother had done to her in the past. She would resort to blackmail to help her family.

She would do anything.

"Don't you think it's killing me?"

Serena has been begging Blair to help her boyfriend, and sometimes, Blair had to be jealous of the blonde. How easy it was to speak with her blonde boyfriend and how Nate was never cold nor proud. In retrospect, she wouldn't be able to handle that either.

Chuck had asked her not to intervene. To do nothing. Serena may have not understood it, but Blair knew that whatever Chuck asked of her, she would do. Because he needed her to.

What surprised her was the knock on the door of her dorm. He looked beaten and defeated. But he was there, and even as he entered her room, casting a glance over the hipster surroundings that they both knew she didn't belong in, he kissed her.

"Well if it's a war Jack wants, then it's a war he'll get."

Standing in the middle of her room as Chuck finally surrendered to her, she knew. She knew she would do anything to make him happy, make him safe, and make him whole. He kissed her and he urged her in the direction of her bed, and for a moment, she knew she should be worried.

If hiring prostitutes for her mother was what she was willing to do to make things work out. She couldn't imagine the sort of thing she would do for Chuck.

She kissed him back. Because he was her family and there was literally nothing that she wouldn't do for him.


	25. Inglourious Bassterds Part I

**A/N**: This is the beginning of my favorite bunch of chapters that I've written. For obvious reasons. 3x17 had so many good quotes and really produced some of my best work, I think, with the amount of angst. So I hope you enjoy the three upcoming chapters...and everything after as well.

**Summary**: Just like last year, destruction would still be at the hands of Blair Waldorf. Now, just like when Chuck was a naïve seventeen-year-old, Blair would always result in his destruction.

**Disclaimer**: Quotes belong to Season 3 of GG and all inspiration is from the most trandscendent couple Chuck and Blair. Thanks so much to my wonderful beta comewhatmay.x whose throat I practically forced this down.

* * *

**Anything**

_It's an interesting feeling, holding another man's prized possession. You wonder how far he'll go to get it back. if there's anything he wouldn't do._

_I will do anything._

_Well there is something that's caught my eye._

"Voices were raised. Expletives were used."

Jack Bass never gave much thought to it. Destroy, destroy, destroy. That was it. He was here for one reason and one reason only. And if Blair Waldorf would help him with his agenda, he would use that to his full advantage. It was almost strange how this time, Chuck actually knew what he was doing. He just didn't think it would end the way that Jack knew it would.

But just like last year, destruction would still be at the hands of Blair Waldorf. Now, just like when Chuck was a naïve seventeen-year-old, Blair would always result in his destruction.

So Jack waited to see the blonde stepsister leave the brunette alone—vulnerable to the kill.

It didn't take much. Like always, what he couldn't help but admit when he came across the glamorous nineteen-year-old.

He couldn't blame Chuck.

"I'd rather spend the night with the Marquis de Sade."

Her tongue was quick and sharp.

"And yes, I know he's dead."

If there was anyone that seemed to be bred to take on a Bass, it was Blair Waldorf. And he would use that against her.

What he couldn't help but think was how much she resembled Chuck's mother. Cold and ruthless, doing whatever she could to get what she wanted. It was a sad thing, how all she wanted was Chuck. She wanted his happiness and his protection.

It would result in her demise.

But it was the reason Jack was drawn to her. Why any Bass could never help but be pulled in by her. Why that first night more than a year ago, wild beneath her recognizeable cold exterior that he just couldn't help himself. And even when he returned with whom she had truly wanted, he had received no thanks.

It was true the thanks he had been anticipating wouldn't have included words, but she had still refused him. She still rejected him. And even now, as he watched her browse through racks at Matthew Williamson, his fascination seemed to never cease.

He thought his nephew a fool for being so weak, but he could still understand it. And it was true that he would never drop that much money on a dress, but seeing her in it made it worth pretending to.

At first it had just been an intriguing social experiment on Jack's part. He knew that he had to destroy the vile detritus that had stolen everything from him. He just didn't think it would be so easy to lure Chuck to that destruction. Jack could smell the desperation upon him, and the truly amusing thing was that his nephew actually thought he could have it all.

But watching Blair Waldorf, with her infinite beauty and calculation, he liked the idea of using it. He liked the idea of using her to, once again, take everything from the boy.

Because even though The Empire represented everything that Bart didn't think Chuck could be, to the boy, Blair Waldorf was everything.

That was what was so tragic about it.

**Killed**

_I'm already dead._

_You still have your photo._

_A formality. Although you're welcome to kill me again if you like._

He had to push his remorse away. From the moment he'd had his meeting with Jack, he knew it was the only way he would survive. It was something that his father would be proud of. He wasn't weak. He wasn't letting his feelings cost him everything that he had built. She would understand. He was doing what he had to win. She had to understand.

It was Blair.

He hated it. In the small moments when he was by himself, scornful at his own reflection, he could admit that he hated it. He hated himself. He hated how much he had become like his father.

But this was what he had to do. He had to prove to himself that Bart was wrong. He could be strong.

Blair would understand. She had to.

And it was in those moments alone, the only thing he could do was remind himself.

She had done it before. She had done _Jack_ before. It wouldn't matter. None of it would. They had done this sort of thing before. He had attempted to seduce Vanessa for her before. Why should this be any different?

But he knew it. He knew it in his gut that this was tearing him apart. He felt her hesitate by that table as he ascended the stairs to her room, and he knew it was imminent. She wouldn't be able to resist coming to his rescue behind his back. It was all falling into place. Just as he had planned.

And yet, there was that feeling. That feeling that he just couldn't understand. He watched his best friend and his stepsister hug and kiss, and he wished it were that easy. He wished that he could do this. He knew he had to survive.

Even if he already felt death.

A game for Nathaniel seemed so trivial. All he had to do was wait.

And wait.

Teenagers cloaked in black came shuffling back in, and Serena was so innocent. She good-naturedly asked where Blair was, and for a moment, Chuck could fool himself. He pretended that the game mattered to her too and she was still out playing it.

But she wasn't.

He felt the horror strike his heart even though he knew exactly what had happened.

_One last chance to save your man._

It was like he hadn't even planned it to begin with. He picked up the card in what seemed like slow motion, feeling ill and shaken to core.

He felt like dying.

He didn't think it would feel like this. Once again, all alone, he felt himself start to break. If this would save his hotel, he knew he had to do it. She had to understand. She just had to. But it was the thought of them together. He believed he could just get through this if his hotel was safe.

But it was the thought of them together.

The thought that they had together been before and that Jack would take every perverse pleasure in violating her.

And he broke.

He refused to let his feelings cost him all that he had built. But all alone, he let himself break.

The card cut into his hand as he crumpled it violently, and he felt his legs give way as he slid to the ground against the wall, grinding his knuckles into his eyes, and refusing to let emotion tear down his face. He commanded himself not to feel. He ordered himself not to let his soul shred.

But he let a low scream rumble in the back of his throat.

And he was killed again.

**Dear**

_I've already had his hotel. Now I'll leave knowing I've had the thing he holds even dearer._

Chuck may have been a fool, but Jack knew better than to leave it just at that. So much seemed to have happened since he was gone, but if there was one thing he had to admit, it was that his nephew had been correct.

He had changed.

It was true that he was no longer smoking in opium dens with Thai hookers, but that just made it so much easier.

If Chuck had been that broken self-destructive boy he was, he never would have sacrificed his love. Irony always had a sense of cruelty to it.

This thought first occurred to him when he had arrived back in New York. The countless numbers of pictures with Blair Waldorf at the side of someone who used to be a notorious playboy. That sad thing was, Chuck actually seemed happy.

He was happy, of course, until Jack arrived. That much was clear. How easy it had been, ripping those two apart when they barely had any threads holding them together. How easy it had been, arriving at Chuck's room, seducing him with drugs and easy women.

But it was even easier now. Chuck was sure that the hotel was the most important thing to him. It was unfortunate for him that he didn't even know what Jack was after. Blair had spotted it the moment she looked at him.

"You're a lying ooze."

He had to admire her, as he always did. He didn't care about his nephew's endeavors. He cared about what had to the potential to really pleasure him.

Jack always knew that would be Blair Waldorf. Chuck was just too possessed with his father's ghost to realize that. Even as his woman was so supportive and so loving, and Chuck should have seen that. Should have seen that Jack had used Blair before, and he would do so again.

It had been too easy.

It had been too easy to see them together, too easy to spot the connection between them.

Jack just didn't think it would be that easy tearing him apart. It had, in fact, been quite an elaborate rouse just to split them up. But that was the fun in it.

"I'm glad you came."

Fresh off his confrontation with Lily and her trophy husband in The Bartholomew Bass Room, Jack saw the two of them. Blair decked in a dazzling red number with Chuck, his head bowed in something that looked too much like remorse.

"I told you I'd meet you here."

Her voice was consoling, and Jack couldn't help but note how much worse it would get for the two of them.

"Forgive my doubt," Chuck said scornfully. Blair was quiet, finally causing the boy to look back up at her. "I hate it when you look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Blair," Chuck said sharply. But she just raised her eyebrow at him challengingly. "You don't have to ask."

"You're right." Blair smiled faintly. "I wish you would give me the same courtesy."

"I don't think I would have survived if you weren't with me," Chuck said quietly.

"Elizabeth is taking over the company," Blair said. "Everything is going to be alright."

"I wouldn't have survived."

And with a flattered smile, Blair leaned forward, and Chuck pulled her into the corner.

Even though it was clear that Chuck couldn't see it, it was certainly clear to Jack. The way Blair's face fell and her breath shook.

And as Chuck walked through the elevator, Jack knew the truth.

"Blair and I will get past this."

As Jack left, he knew Chuck needed to believe that. Because if he didn't, he wouldn't survive.


	26. Inglourious Bassterds Part II

**Summary**: It was wrong and it was weak and he just wanted to make her right. He wanted her to be right about him. He wanted to deserve her.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing belongs to me. All is GG season 3 quotes as well as characters and the like. Thanks to comewhatmay.x who beta's even though she's really busy.

* * *

**Willing**

_Contrary to what you may believe, I prefer the woman to want to have sex with me._

It had been a dark night. For weeks she had been consumed with nothing else. She was plagued with the only thing that could keep her distracted. Her unrelenting pursuit of Yale was something that had always been with her. It was an aspiration that had originated before her father's infidelity, before her life had been turned on its head.

That thing that required a distraction.

That thing that she wouldn't let herself see drinking champagne as she ran by, chasing her conscience at the Boat House rather than the last words she had ever said to dark eyes that she wasn't used to seeing so empty.

So she ran. She ran, fully focused on regaining the respect of a new teacher so she wouldn't have to think about peonies hitting the floor of an elevator.

It had seemed so important.

Following her plan—or what it had been—that she'd had for as long she could remember.

And now it was all so trivial. Walking back into an opera house that was now crawling with police officers, she wanted to admit to herself how irrelevant it all seemed.

But he was there. And then she just couldn't. She just had to go on to that dream. Because he made her forget. Sitting with him on leather seats, or even her own bed plotting destruction, he made her forget. She forgot that she had to be perfect and that she had to exceed the expectations.

She was just Blair.

And that was all Chuck Bass cared about.

So she watched him with confusion, his knuckles red and battered as someone in uniform spoke with him in serious tones. She should have looked past him.

But that was something she never could do. She couldn't until the picture got a lot clearer. It was difficult for her to look past anything when it came to him, but then she saw Lily.

Fragile Lily, who was being guided away from the throng by her boyfriend, her hair in disarray, her dress in tatters. Blair didn't have to see Jack Bass being escorted roughly form the bathroom to know exactly what had happened.

Chuck's inflamed knuckles made sense, as did her disgust.

"I guess this is goodbye."

Jack was snide and indifferent and it made her feel ill just to have his voice in her ear.

"Forgive me if I don't send you flowers," Blair spat.

"Always so quick to judge," Jack scolded.

"He protected her," Blair said. "And you can't stand that another Bass can be better than you."

"Please," Jack scoffed. "She wanted it."

But before Blair could even think of how much she wanted the conversation to end, he was dragged off, and the older Bass was no longer obscuring the younger one.

Chuck's eyes were on him, and although he looked suspicious, and almost hurt, she smiled at him. She didn't want to. She hated thinking that she was sending him the wrong message, but he didn't approach. He just looked.

His fingers flexed self-consciously and Blair let the encouraging look fall. Because she had to distract herself. She couldn't let herself think of him, knowing that she still cared.

That was always where she faltered. Her heart was always more than willing to forgive him.

Jack Bass would always think a woman was willing to be with him. The problem was, that when it came to Chuck, Blair always would be.

And it was only a matter until it was that proven itself true once again.

**Bond**

_My goal was to destroy Chuck. But now that he has you, I had to break that bond._

The minute he stepped back on US soil, Jack's plan was in place. Though Chuck's so-called sexual harassment claims would be easy enough to disprove, the distrust was still there. And yet, so was she.

The Empire had never been Jack's true endgame, of course. His first clash with his immature nephew had just been about the Company. The company that only Jack had deserved.

This was about revenge. Not just revenge, but the desire to see Chuck utterly and completely eviscerated.

He didn't think it would have been as easy this time. How easy it had been before, tempting Chuck in a way that any man could be tempted. He would have thought they would see this coming.

Chuck wasn't the only foolish one.

Love made everyone blind, and Blair Waldorf was no exception.

This was made clear to Jack when he saw her for the first time in a year. His condescension and gloating already delivered to Chuck, it was a purely enjoyable coincidence that Blair was in the lobby.

Then again, she could never be far from the breaking teenager. She cared too much. It was her fatal flaw and it always would be.

"Hello, Gorgeous."

Her words were curt and her technique was flawless. But Jack couldn't have been more pleased. He felt the girl's soft hand in his, her palpable disgust as he placed a kiss on her knuckles, but what he was even more aware of were the eyes burning into his back.

It was too easy. It wasn't exactly how it had been laid out before, but the intent was the same. And Jack knew that the end result would be the same as well.

Chuck didn't deserve her. The conniving, schemer who stole Jack's company away from him didn't deserve the love of such a woman.

A woman, who quite evidently, would do anything for his nephew. Jack would like to think as much, because his entire plan was riding on it. But the moment he left her alone in that lobby, he knew he was right.

It was too volatile, too tumultuous, and too passionate. Jack knew passion and he knew that it would combust all over them sooner or later.

Jack stopped around the corner, watching the two share one simple look. And it was in that moment that Jack knew that this would work. He would destroy the boy with the love he had been so fortunate to have.

Chuck's eyes never wavered from Blair's face, and Jack knew the exact emotion that could break any bond, take down any empire.

Jealousy.

**Lost**

_I can't let my feelings cost me all that I've built._

_Even if it means losing me instead._

Chuck had nightmares quite frequently. This wasn't a new occurrence. He'd had them since he was a young child. The knowledge that he had killed his own mother during his birth was something that anyone would stress over.

His father would work late nights, and bring home models; the only affection that Chuck had was that of his au pair.

And even that didn't last.

She was different. She had always been different. She didn't look at him with disgust, other than the playful teasing that they always exchanged. She didn't desire him like any other woman would. She respected him, and that was something even his father refused to give him.

Blair had always been different.

He refused to become attached. He refused to let the insomnia and nausea get the better of him. He refused even the word _like_. He had seen what she had done to the affections of men. Even Nate, who was in love with a completely different woman feared leaving her. It was what she did. She twisted the insides and emotions of everyone else to the point of confusion.

He hated that he found pleasure in it. The way her malice brought out her beauty, the way her smile was so deceptive and so alluring.

And he was gone.

He wanted to push her away. But she had been crying and before he knew what he was doing, she let him string diamonds along her neck and they were feeling and panting and heaving until his plan had collapsed.

And he was in love with her.

Blair was the first and only one to ever care about him like that. So much had occurred between them and he was too far in to pull away. But he'd had a relationship with his father longer, and he knew there was no way he could break from that either.

So he dreamed. He could never break down in front of her. The last time he had, he ran away for a month and broke her harder than he ever thought he could.

And he knew how close he was now. He knew how precarious they were. How together, they were invincible, but much more dangerous as well.

He thought he could hide it from her. She couldn't see beneath his solid facade. He had to be strong for her. He hated struggling when she believed so blindly in him. It was wrong and it was weak and he just wanted to make her right. He wanted her to be right about him.

He wanted to deserve her.

And yet, he still had nightmares. He still sweated the night out in ways he wished he wouldn't. And he didn't tell her anything. He didn't tell her that underneath his confidence, he knew something very bad was coming.

He couldn't have her leave him.

Then he really wouldn't be able to survive. With the knowledge that his father was right and the extraction of her love, he wouldn't survive it.

His breaths crashed through his lungs painfully, and looking through the darkness for her slumbering form, it was the only time he could be relieved. She was still by his side. She was still asleep.

She still loved him.

Chuck wound his arm carefully around her waist, not wanting to disturb her serenity.

But she was Blair.

"Chuck."

She was always aware.

He felt her hand come up to his forehead, and he cringed, knowing she could feel it.

"You're sweating."

Her statement wasn't anything obvious, but accusatory. He pulled away from her searching hand, but still kept his hands on her.

"Tell me."

"Just a dream," Chuck said quietly, in response to her command.

Neither of them could help it. They were connected, and so a part of each other, but right now, Chuck couldn't help but wish she were oblivious. He could hide from her then; keep her from finding that itch in him that told him something was coming.

But then she wouldn't be Blair. And he wouldn't need her.

"Promise me."

"What?" Blair asked. His nose was buried in her hair, but they both knew what he had said.

"Promise me you won't leave."

Her hand was consoling on the back of his neck.

He didn't push her away. He felt calmed by her, instilling even more fear that he was correct.

"I won't if you won't," she promised.

His kiss was fierce and he put all of the bad feelings away.

He wouldn't lose her. She'd promised him. So he pushed it all away. He pushed away the fear and anxiety, because no matter what happened, they would be together.

She promised.

It just didn't occur to him that he had made a promise to her. And he didn't think that he'd broken it—in any way.

He could never have the ability.

Blair thought differently.

And he lost his heart the moment he lost her.


	27. Inglourious Bassterds Part III

**Summary**: His love was poisonous to her and he would love her so hard until she broke. He couldn't understand boundaries—he never could. He couldn't understand that there was that line.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing belongs to me. Quotes and pretty much everything else belongs to GG. Thanks to my awesome beta **comewhatmay.x**.

* * *

**Forever**

_All I ever did was love you._

Blair didn't like to think about it much. It was disconcerting to remember. She remembered her vapid life and how it had been before. Even at sixteen, she had been convinced that she would end up married to an Archibald, have a degree from Yale, and live on the Upper East Side.

Blair hated that girl. That girl was so stupidly naïve, so sure that her sweet high school boyfriend would never cheat, would never stray.

She had also been convinced that Chuck Bass was a heinous pig.

That was still true. The only difference was now she just pretended to be disgusted by it. Because suddenly, she seemed to be spending almost all of her time with him. Her boyfriend didn't really feel like a boyfriend and his best friend would smirk at her in a way that made her feel like she mattered.

She hadn't realized what it was until That Night.

The same night that she went over and over in her head, and wondering if it had gotten to that place, and had she done anything differently, it wouldn't have happened. One twist of fate and she had broken up with her boyfriend on a sidewalk; only to travel to a burlesque club in midtown.

And then she changed.

She was no longer naïve. She was still strangely romantic, but this time she found schemes and humiliation a sign of affection rather than a box of Godiva.

She supposed it was the way he mused about the destruction of _Whore-gina _and the way he spoke of _true love _as though he had been talking about it all his life.

It frightened her. It frightened her so much that she found herself walking towards him, and letting him kiss her purposefully and ostentatiously in front of all New York society on a dance floor.

And then he broke her heart.

She couldn't comprehend what had happened. She had been indifferent to him. She had hated him. She let him into her heart only to realize something so horrific, that it had become necessary for her to go out and find herself a fake boyfriend.

She loved him.

Blair Waldorf loved Chuck Bass. Maybe she always had. Maybe she only started once he pulled away from her. But the truth was glaring and ugly, and as she walked down the steps of the Jitney, she felt herself begin to get sick.

He was smirking with flowers and she hated him. He was trying to treat her like he did with all the others. Like he could treat her as he pleased and he could just come back to her whenever he felt like it.

"Don't you see? You and I are the same. Now stop trying to fight it."

That was the key word. _Try_. Stop _trying_. Like any attempt was futile.

It was standing outside, and feeling his strangely comforting presence behind her when she realized it.

She wanted him. She wanted him to say those three words because that was all she felt for him. And she knew that they were the same. They thought the same, plotted the same, and they loved the same.

Or so she hoped.

It was cruelly ironic. He couldn't say it. He hurt her like she had never let anyone else before, and it confirmed her belief of how much she loved him.

It wasn't fair. But nothing that Chuck Bass did ever was.

"I love you so much it consumes me."

It wasn't the first time she had said it. But the first time she said it, he wouldn't allow her to convey how much, how desperate, and how completely she would destroy herself for him.

"And I know you love me too."

That was just the way they were.

Complete denial.

She had wanted him to murder the butterflies. She had wanted Nate to take her to Cotillion, along with Prom and _Murray Hill_. She wanted everything that wasn't him.

Until she realized how stupid she was.

You always hurt the ones you love. But Blair knew that it was more likely that the ones you loved hurt you. No one had hurt her like Chuck Bass had and no one could attempt to. Because if she didn't love him, she just wouldn't care.

That's how she knew.

In dank bars, at White Parties, in her bedroom, outside of funerals, in elevators, at graduation parties, it was just how she knew.

She loved him so fiercely and so completely. She didn't know how long it had been for, but she knew it would be until the end of forever.

"You went up there on your own."

Her heart hurt more than her hand did as she walked away from him, and even now, she knew.

All she ever did was love him.

And she would love him forever.

**Dark**

_The worst thing I ever did. The darkest thought I ever had. You said you would stand by me through anything. This, Blair, is anything._

Chuck Bass thrived in the darkness. It was the way he had been taught. It was the way he was raised. And the way she was staring at him frightened him.

"I love you."

Now was not the time. It was not the time for the one girl he would ever have any tangible feelings for to proclaim her love for him. It was not the time for the girl he knew he—without a doubt—loved to be telling him vulnerable thoughts.

Right at his father's funeral.

It just wasn't the time.

But he wished it were.

It was the only reason he returned to her. It was the only reason he ever kept on returning to her. She was the only one for him. Her arms encircled his body and he knew that he would never know comfort like he did when wrapped so warmly in her arms. She was the only one to understand him.

And he took solace in that.

"I didn't want to miss the first day of school."

He hated that look on her face. The disappointment, the sadness. He hated disappointing her. So he just remembered what she told him.

"Looks like I already did."

She grabbed his face in her hand, hash smoke clouding around them. And seeing the heartache in her eyes, it was the only thing he could think of.

"Why did you even come back?"

He hated the brunette lookalikes that couldn't even come close to her as she walked away from him.

"I don't want you going anywhere."

Tears shone in her eyes and he let her. He let her grab his hand, letting himself be in her delicate arms once again.

She would always be the only one to see him in such a way.

"I want to be there for you."

But there was a breaking point. He should have known all along. Hookers in a boardroom shouldn't have had to be that point. She should have left him earlier. He wished she had. He wished he hadn't found himself standing in an elevator, the cause of her tears once again. She refused to look at him and as his feeble attempt at begging forgiveness landed at his feet, he knew it.

He knew that when she said she would always be there for him, she had meant it. At the time, she had meant it. But he just had to test her. He had to travel to opium dens, and have his uncle's perverse influence only to find that he had alienated her like he always did.

He had to push and push until he broke everything she felt for him into pieces. She had always been the one to believe in him.

He wished that she didn't. He wished she didn't encourage him to follow his ambition. He wished that he didn't feel confident just because she was at his side.

He wished he didn't love her so damn much. Because he was toxic. His love was poisonous to her and he would love her so hard until she broke. He couldn't understand boundaries—he never could. He couldn't understand that there was that line that he never had a problem crossing before.

It was her fault. She made him feel when he had thought he had locked down those thoughts for good. She made him feel love and care and he hated her for it.

Because it was only a matter of time before she took it all away. He knew this. And he still pushed.

He still believed.

She was going to be the end of him. He knew that. He felt too much. Pulling away from emotion was a good thing. Love was not something he had ever received from his father. It was better that way. He never knew he had the capacity to feel when he was a child.

She changed things.

For the worse.

He believed her.

"I will stand by you through _anything_."

He believed that deceitful bitch. That deceitful bitch that, even in his darkest moments, he could never force himself to stop loving.

She was like him. Dark and cold but with a fire that could consume so wholly. He knew that she was the only one who could understand him. Through all of the lies and the gossip, she was the only one.

So he pushed. She believed in him. She _loved_ him. And he knew he had done her wrong. He knew how wrong it all was. The only consolation he had was that she would stand by him through anything. She understood it all. She knew Bart and he knew Eleanor.

She loved him.

But she cried because of him once again and walked away.

In his darkest moment, he would be without her.

She was the cause of his darkest moment, and she wasn't even there for it.

**Worst**

_I never thought that the worst thing you would ever do would be to me._

Blair never fooled herself. She wasn't in denial. She knew exactly who Chuck Bass was. In fact, she knew that she was more aware of who he was than his own father. Of course Bart understood the Bass genes, but he didn't really know his son. No one really did.

Blair wasn't sure why that responsibility fell on her. She wasn't sure because it wasn't a responsibility at all. She hadn't meant for it to happen. Not her ravaged virginity or the tumultuous way they tortured each other.

Being with him at all. Being Chuck Bass' friend wasn't something she had anticipated. She knew that because of her relationship with his best friend, some interaction was required. But she was drifting farther and farther away from her boyfriend. And suddenly her best friend was gone and the only person she actually conversed with was the scornful and smug devil.

And she didn't mind. He was cool, he was vacant, and something in her truly responded to that.

"Blair, you slept with him?"

She was defensive, but the moment she kicked Serena out of her house, she didn't know why. Blair had spent more time with him than she had with her own best friend in the past year.

He didn't judge her.

He laughed at her cruel comments and he encouraged her harsh exterior.

So she spoke with him. She confided in him the problems with her mother and the way Serena looked at her when she spoke to her minions. He admired her. She had never had that experience before and she knew she was abusing it. The thrill she felt at the way he looked at her when Nate wasn't looking, and how he whispered darkly in her ear in dark hallways at parties.

She wasn't in denial. She had seen the way he'd treated women in the past and his penchant for anything illegal.

She liked it. She was a prim society princess, but underneath, she knew that they were the same. She let him drag her in closets.

She let him break her heart.

But no one saw the person that she saw. No one saw the damaged, twisted, self-centered person that was the only one she could talk to.

No one understood.

"You do _what_?"

Walking down the street with her best friend, Blair sort of wished it were still summer. She knew speaking to Serena about Chuck wasn't exactly a recipe for success. Even though Serena had spent the summer gallivanting around Europe, dancing on tabletops and topless on Valentino's yacht, the games she played with her boyfriend were a problem.

But Chuck would smirk at her in that way that he did and all of her anxiety seemed to melt away.

He humiliated girls. He was aroused at the idea of her twisted machinations, and she knew that she was too.

She just never anticipated that she would be apart of those games. She never thought that she would be the pawn. That was what hurt most of all. He didn't trust her enough to tell her.

What hurt wasn't the scheme. It wasn't plotting to get rid Jack or even the idea behind it.

It was that he didn't tell her. He used her because he didn't think she could handle it.

And it broke her heart.

"You wouldn't betray me like this."

"Me betray you? You just came from seeing my _uncle_."

She loved him. She loved him so much. He was cold and detached and she loved him. She loved his games and his plans. She still loved him as her hand made contact with the side of his face.

Tears flecked down her face with too much ease and his face betrayed no surprise at all.

It hurt. All of this hurt.

But the worst thing of all struck her to her core as she ripped the tainted dress from her body.

She still loved him with all her being.

Even through the worst thing he had ever done, that could never change.


	28. Inglourious Bassterds Part IV

**A/N**: Last chapter for 3x17. I hope you have enjoyed this litle tour of my interpretation of Chuck's mind, or at least, appreciated my point of view. Because I just love writing twisted angsty Chuck.

**Summary**: Basses were bred in darkness. They fed on hedonism and thrived in depravity. Jack understood enough to understand that. But he didn't understand Blair Waldorf.

**Disclaimer**: Quotes belong to Gossip Girl, as usual. As does pretty much everything else. And as always, thanks to my beta **comewhaymay.x** who I would literally be nothing without.

* * *

**Belief**

_You didn't actually believe Blair could sleep with me and you two would be okay._

"There is something that's caught my eye."

Chuck felt himself go numb. He remembered the way Blair had promised to be by his side, and that she would wage war against Jack with him. They were a team, and that was what he valued.

But the moment the words left Jack's mouth, Chuck couldn't fool himself. Jack was in _his_ robe, selling _his_ art on eBay, and Chuck knew. He felt the disgust and ache in his body, telling him that everything was going to get so much worse before it got any better.

"What?" Chuck asked slowly.

"I think you know," Jack smirked.

Chuck felt his body losing altitude, and in that second, he made a decision. He knew it was hasty and coarse, but he had to do it.

"Name the terms," Chuck said darkly.

"That's it?" Jack asked. "No pleading? No begging? No 'she's the love of my life, you wouldn't be so cruel'?"

"She is," Chuck said tersely. "But you're blood. There was never any question as to the lengths you always go to."

"Don't you want to know the details?" Jack asked. "What exactly I'll get to do to her in order for you to have your precious hotel back?"

"Enough," Chuck snapped. "I just agreed to your proposition. Now what about my hotel?"

"Slow down, Charles," Jack sneered. "You think your little girlfriend is going to be alright with you handing her over to me like some mistress between the Kennedys?"

"She won't know," Chuck said darkly.

Deep down, he knew it. He knew that what he was doing what was wrong. But he pushed that feeling away, because he knew it would just get in the way.

He couldn't help but be relieved when he saw Blair. She had no packages, but he knew it was just the beginning. He knew that she had just finished seeing Jack and the dress was on its way.

But he couldn't hate himself just yet. He would have time for guilt when he had his hotel back.

"Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?"

Chuck knew she believed his humor but the elevator ride was awkwardly silent and he felt his guilt start to rise up again.

But it didn't matter.

She was Blair. He knew it was wrong. And he knew it would be hard. But she was Blair. She was his Blair. And they loved each other. They would be alright. They were meant to be together.

Nothing would ever stop that.

**Past**

_You may have told her, but Blair and I will get past this._

It was just a rough patch. That was just what he had to tell himself. The second he saw Jack in person, he knew it was what he had to tell himself. Hearing his smug voice on the phone didn't even compare. He watched Jack approach the only person he could ever love, and he felt it in his bones. He knew that if he didn't hold himself together, the jealousy would destroy him. It would end everything.

Her eyes met his with a deep regret as Jack took his leave, and all Chuck could see was the reason behind it. He knew that Blair regretted it. He knew that he had driven her right into his uncle's arms, but he still couldn't help himself. He couldn't help the rage and the need to keep her with him.

As soon as Jack made his way back into Chuck's life, he knew it. He knew that this would be rough. He knew that he and Blair would scratch and claw at each other until they bled. But he never thought he would feel this way. He had never thought he would turn out to be like the Nathaniels of the world, trying to chase away dogs sniffing after what was his. But all Nathaniel had to deal with was a Brooklynite.

Chuck had his own flesh and blood to deal with, and it hurt. It hurt how there was such a real possibility that he could drive her to Jack again. One false move, and Jack could own everything that Chuck cared about.

Jack would ruin everything.

So he kept everything locked down. He never let Blair into his mind. He never let her disarm him like she could do so effortlessly. That would incur weakness. And he couldn't be so weak as to let her go.

Chuck knew that Jack would do everything in his power to tear his nephew apart. He just wished he had seen this coming. He wished Jack's sleazy smiles in Blair's direction weren't portentous at all.

But he knew the truth.

He knew his ability to push away any bad feelings. He would just look at her, and for a moment, he could forget. He could forget about his failure and the fact that when he looked at her, he was home.

She would look at him for only a moment, but he knew that she could see right through him. She saw his insecurities and his mangled insides. And she loved him. It was how he got through it.

He felt dead and corrupted, but she loved him. Just as much as he loved her. That was how he did it. They weren't supposed to be apart. Not for long—not ever. They were supposed to grow old together.

So they would.

He would make sure of it.

**Over**

_Don't you get it, Chuck? Blair has seen the real you now. It's over. She can never love that. No one could._

Jack couldn't understand it. He would never truly mull it over to begin with. The kid was his vermin of a nephew.

And she was just a girl.

But when he looked at the two of them—they way looked at each other and smiled—he couldn't understand it.

He remembered that girl. He remembered her and he couldn't understand how she had gotten to this place. The first time he had ever seen her was at a New Year's party with a surprising tolerance of gin for someone her size.

She had been so easy. So hung up on a Bass that would only break her heart. If only she knew that Basses were incapable of feeling anything for anyone but themselves.

And yet there she was. In pictures, in society pages, there she was. His nephew that had left her for hookers and cocaine had somehow weaseled his way back into her good graces after Jack had gone to great lengths to destroy anything between them. The way Chuck Bass deserved.

Basses were bred in darkness. They fed on hedonism and thrived in depravity. Jack understood enough to understand that. But he didn't understand Blair Waldorf. She was light. She was pure and virginal. From what he could remember from their time together, she was soft and pliant. She was so like a woman, so virginal with him.

Chuck was his family. He hated the boy like he had hated his brother, but that was the way it was. Basses could never be satiated, and Blair Waldorf was a debutante. He didn't know who Chuck thought he was kidding, or how Blair had been fooled into such a false sense of security, but Blair couldn't possibly understand. She didn't know the darkness that lurked in the boy's soul, or how his ugly mind worked.

She couldn't possibly.

"Champagne?"

"I prefer something stronger. For the germs."

And he stopped himself. How very business-like she was as she went to unclasp her dress and how she shoved the pen in his direction.

She was smart. He would give her that. She could certainly match the Basses when it came to cunning. But Jack still won. He was still in the presence of a woman who was bested into coming to him, and he still had his nephew's humiliation in his hands.

And the solace he received from her tears was knowing that she would rip Chuck apart.

She had seen the dark side of the moon.

And she didn't like it.

Jack watched with interest as the girl—who suddenly looked so young—picked her jacket off the floor.

"Now that I'm sure you're going to see your lover," Jack drawled condescendingly, "I do have a question."

"You're done here," Blair said roughly and he knew that she was holding back tears.

"You're either stupid," Jack said, "or incredibly naïve. Did you really think he wouldn't break your heart eventually?"

Blair turned, and for a moment, Jack wasn't sure what he was seeing. He saw sadness, but there was also something in her face that he could never recognize.

"I knew there was a possibility."

It couldn't be love.

"Then why do it?"

Because no one could love Chuck Bass after everything he had done.

"You wouldn't understand."

Blair walked swiftly into the elevator and the doors closed behind her.

But he was still sure. Chuck was so calm and collected, as he called security to have Jack escorted out. Chuck seemed so confident when Jack was sure he was restraining his rage.

Rage was something that Jack recognized. Betrayal and revenge was something that Jack recognized.

But Chuck's refusal to break was something that he didn't.

As he found himself being led out of the building, it never once occurred to him that those two could actually love each other.

Even if it was to the point of destruction.


	29. Unblairable Lightness of Being Part I

**A/N**: Just a warning, another episode with infinite allusions. But these past two episodes were just amazing. It also came to my attention that Blair and Chuck have both been referred to as Howard Hughes in the past. Soulmates. That's all I'm saying.

**Summary**: Even at an early age, Blair had always let the smirking torturer get to her. He would pull on her hair or comment on her dress, and her little girl would be resorted to tears.

**Disclaimer**: Quotes belong to GG. Nothing is mine. My beta **comewhatmay.x** is amazing. You know the drill.

* * *

**Try**

_I could buy Saks itself and it still wouldn't be enough. She doesn't want to talk to me. I tried._

_When?_

_You haven't been outside in days._

_She asked me to leave her alone._

He went home that night. He knew that it was his only choice. The way her perfect tears slid down her porcelain face, he knew he would not be following her.

And he had business to attend to.

This wasn't one of those times where he could chase her to her bedroom and convince her to come back to him because of some petty argument.

Walking back into his penthouse with Jack's cold eyes on him, Chuck didn't need to be told.

He knew the truth

This was wrong. Everything he had done was wrong. He hadn't meant it to turn out this way, but Bart had possessed him—Bart still possessed him. It was trying to be what he thought his father wanted that caused him to lose the thing that was most imortant to him. All he could think of was what a disappointment he was, and it was only upon the eve of the destruction of his uncle and gaining his hotel back did this thought occur to him.

She had to take him back.

It wasn't that she wanted it, or that he didn't think had done anything wrong.

She just had to take him back.

There was no other alternative. There was no way that he could survive without her. She was the light to his darkness and she would only be the one to ever accept him for who he was.

She had to take him back.

He was lifeless otherwise.

So he bid his time. He called security to remove his uncle and spent the next few hours stewing in hatred and self-loathing.

It was the only way he grieved.

But he couldn't do that now. He couldn't do that because grieving meant giving her up. And he could never do that.

He would never let her go.

You couldn't let go someone whom you never stopped loving. It was impossible.

He waited. He knew he had to give her space, in hopes that she would forgive him. But knowing that this was real and that it was so much worse than blogging about the intimate details of her private life, he knew that she couldn't. He had done something even worse and she couldn't forgive him this time.

He waited.

He waited as long as he could.

Morning.

He could never be patient, especially when it came to her. And as he approached her door, he knew that this was wrong. All of this was wrong. Being apart from her was wrong and he knew, now more than ever, that what he had done was heinous. And he would be lucky if she could even look at him without an ounce of disdain again.

He was also lucky that he slipped passed Dorota.

He didn't bother knocking.

He knew that if he tried there was no way he was getting in that room.

She wasn't in her bed.

That was what worried him. Her blue satin sheets were twisted and unkempt. The bathroom door was locked, and that was what was the most frightening. It was so frightening how easily she opened the door, her cold eyes growing dead underneath his own gaze.

She looked perfect.

But he knew she was cracking beneath her mask and all he wanted to do was fix her.

"Hi."

But he knew that she wouldn't let him.

She looked horrible.

She looked like he felt and even now, it was painful how alike they were, even in a situation such as this one.

She looked even harder on the outside as she refused to answer to his greeting. He took a step forward and she was finally coerced into communication.

She took a step backward, her hand in a protective gesture before her.

"Don't."

Chuck paused, knowing how delicate this situation was.

"I'm sorry."

Her laugh was cold and bitter and he felt a disgusting shiver tremor through his body.

A tremor similar to the one he felt whenever he thought of what Blair had to do with his uncle.

Twice.

"You're sorry," Blair said scathingly. She had been heartbroken last night.

Now she was just defensive.

But her anger melted away, and all he saw was the hurt underneath.

"You trade me to your uncle and you're sorry."

"I thought we could get past this."

"And how could you think that?" Blair asked.

For a moment, he couldn't speak. For a moment, he really had to think about it. He supposed he could sum it up as 'denial.' But he knew the real reason. The reason was that he loved her. And he couldn't even think of a world where she wasn't by his side.

He had tried it. It didn't work out.

So he told her the truth.

"I love you."

"Stop."

Tears were threatening to spill over and this time, he couldn't stop himself from going to her side. He tried to reach for her in a comforting gesture, but she flinched from his touch.

"I said _don't_," Blair snapped, her voice cracking. "You can't do that. You can't just use that against me."

"I'm not trying to manipulate you."

"Well you are," Blair said. "Saying you love me isn't an easy fix anymore."

"I just want us-"

"You treated me like a whore."

Chuck stopped short. For the first time, he truly looked at her. He really looked at her in her vulnerability and her sorrow.

He hated himself.

She was wounded and this time, it really was his fault entirely. These weren't games or banter. He had messed up.

And she was looking at him like she didn't love him anymore.

"Blair-" Chuck said with soft desperation.

"Get out," Blair said. "I can't look at you right now."

_Right now_ had an implication that maybe _someday_ was in the future.

"Just leave me alone."

But she looked away. And that _someday_ turned into something that, in the future, would destroy them.

He turned his back on her.

Because as long as he wasn't looking at her, he could fool himself into thinking that forgiveness was in their future.

**Howard Hughes**

_I'm here to see the invalid._

_And not a moment too soon. She hasn't left her room for days. It's like living with Howard Hughes._

Crippled.

It was the only way to describe it. Her tears were on the fast track to bleeding her dry, and she was just glad that no one was in her room to see her downfall.

She refused to give him the satisfaction.

Even though it wasn't a game anymore, she couldn't help it. She couldn't help the crippling feeling of cold paralysis. There was no tomorrow. There was no today. And all she wanted was something to kill the pain.

"Blair, darling."

Then Eleanor came home.

Blair wished she could care. But nothing was coming. She wished that even the harshest of Eleanor's criticisms would hit home. She wished that school meant a goddamned thing.

Blair wished she wasn't so weak.

But that was just a fantasy. Eleanor was standing over her, casting a shadow over her bruise-blue sheets, and Blair wished she could feel anything but utter heartbreak.

"I haven't seen her like this."

Eleanor didn't know why she was speaking so quietly. Blair was in her own universe, in her own comatose, and yet, she was fearful for how easily her daughter could break.

"I haven't seen her like this, since..."

"Last year," Cyrus added helpfully.

"It's worse," Eleanor said. "It's much worse."

"Chuck came to the house the other day," Cyrus mused.

"She never used to get this way over Nathaniel," Eleanor said.

"It's a double-edged sword," Cyrus said. "Loving someone with such intensity. And if you've noticed..."

"She's acting like him."

They both saw it. How Blair locked herself away, always in the dark. She didn't even want to know if the girl was self-medicating.

She supposed that was why she was the mother that she was. She supposed this was how it had gotten this bad.

"He'll be back tomorrow," Cyrus said.

Eleanor wasn't sure if that was such a good thing.

**Headway**

_Blair is upstairs. I hope you can make some headway with her. I am not allowed to cross the transit. _

"Blair."

It was the first thing Eleanor tried; the only way she knew how to parent. It was the way her mother had been with her, and it was the only way she knew how to get to her only child.

She had to be harsh. She knew that when her daughter stared at her food or fidgeted in a dress, she was doing what she knew how to do correctly.

But now, that wasn't the case.

All she saw were her daughter's blank eyes and an unwilling—or perhaps just an inability—to understand anything besides whatever had happened between her and Charles.

It was Charles.

That, she was sure of.

Even at an early age, Blair had always let the smirking torturer get to her. He would pull on her hair or comment on her dress, and her little girl would be resorted to tears. Serena would comfort her and soon Nate would soothe her (or attempt to). But Eleanor always told her to be strong. Never let anyone see your weakness.

She didn't know that Blair would take that advice so seriously.

She knew that girl was crying in there. She remembered that feeling. The feeling of utter heartbreak. And a part of her wished that Charles would make her happy. Blair was never more herself than when that boy would smirk genuinely at her.

That boy was a leech and she couldn't let him suck her beautiful little girl dry anymore.

"Blair?"

If she knocked, she wouldn't be let in.

But either way, it was useless, because Dorota slid out of the room soon after.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Eleanor," Dorota said. "Miss Blair sad today."

"She's sad every day."

And it was at that moment that she knew. Her maid knew her daughter better than she did. She knew every single thing that was going on in that room, every single thing that Eleanor wasn't privy to.

And that hurt.

"It's Mr. Chuck."

That was supposed to mean something, but Eleanor didn't get it. She didn't understand it at all. She stopped trying to gain entrance to her daughter's room.

Not because she didn't want to.

It was because she couldn't.

Because Blair was Blair. And that was something that she couldn't understand.


	30. Unblairable Lightness of Being Part II

Summary: When she called him in distress over Serena, when she made her jealousy of even the lowly Georgina Sparks clear, he couldn't help but think about it. Her breathless pants and the way her nails dug into him.

Disclaimer: Quotes are season 3 of GG. Corrections are my beta's, **comewhatmay.x**.

* * *

**Solution**

_What did Chuck tell you about how he got his hotel back?_

_He didn't. He just said 'money solves everything.'_

As he walked through those elevator doors, Nate couldn't help but pause. The Empire's penthouse looked the same as ever, but he had to stop. There was something strange in the air, a sense that he was only accustomed to during times when crazy girls called themselves Sarah and con artists ran Ponzi schemes.

He didn't bother calling for Chuck. He knew he wouldn't be there. Nate may have been unobservant, but if there was one thing he would notice, it would be Blair's absence. No one talked about it, but he could tell by Serena's pointed silence around Chuck that something had happened.

Blair was never around and Chuck was always drinking. Some may have not considered that a red flag, but when Chuck stayed in his robe all day and didn't even bother to change into his smoking jacket, Nate knew something was wrong.

He knew that, once again, his best friend's heart was breaking.

Nate quietly pushed the doors open to Chuck's room. His stomach churned at the sight and he took a step back.

Chuck didn't even notice his entry. He knew about Chuck's extracurricular activities, but after everything that had happened with the Captain, Nate was uneasy around those pretty white lines. All that was left was a spotted mirror and green, but Nate knew it.

Chuck only went hard when there was truly something to grieve.

"Chuck," Nate said softly.

Chuck's grunt was sharp, but Nate was sure that had more to do with the sharp light flooding the room and Nate's even sharper voice, rather than discomfort of his best friend's presence.

Nate ignored all of that, and took a seat beside him. It was always an uncomfortable situation, having to comfort Chuck when he was obviously going through a crisis. Nate had never even realized how last year, when his life had been falling apart, that it was Blair who was there to pick up the pieces.

Things had never been this bad.

He hadn't been around for Blair and Chuck's self-destruction the first time, and the summer after that, Chuck simply returned to sleeping around, and then vying for Blair's attention when she returned from Europe.

This was different.

This felt like the end.

And Nate hadn't even been there.

"Do you want to talk?"

"Does it look like I want to talk?" Chuck asked coarsely.

"Well at least tell me how you got the hotel back," Nate said. "I was more than ready to get out of my mom's house."

"Does it matter?"

"Sure."

"No, Nathaniel," Chuck said. "It doesn't matter."

"But you have your empire back."

"It doesn't mean anything," Chuck said. "She isn't here."

Nate had rarely heard Chuck speak in that manner. Chuck was all about easy money and even easier women.

And then he fell in love. Nate wasn't sure if Chuck would ever feel the things that he felt for Serena. He knew that Chuck wouldn't turn into some lovesick puppy. But then he fell in love with Nate's very real ex.

Chuck was still Chuck. He still smirked and leered. But then Nate would catch him alone with Blair. Whispering in each other's ears with expressions that only made sense to them. It was depraved and obviously underhanded.

But it was them. And nothing was even imaginable next to them. Nate was sure that only Blair would hear the things Chuck said.

But Blair wasn't here. And Chuck missed her. More than was obvious, Nate was sure. Chuck never wore his heart on his sleeve. Whatever Chuck felt for her, it was a million times more intense beneath the surface.

Nate never wanted to feel that way. He never wanted to lose the love of his life. Even Chuck Bass didn't deserve that.

"Why is that?" Nate asked cautiously.

"I told you, we're not talking about it."

"I'm sure she would be happy to find out that you got The Empire back," Nate suggested. "She was the one who encouraged you in the first place."

"She already knows," Chuck said. "She knew the minute it happened."

"What happened?"

"Don't worry about it, Nathaniel."

This was the way Chuck and Blair usually treated him—and Serena. Those dark whispers in corners during parties and them waving away their best friends like they wouldn't understand.

Nate was sure that he wouldn't. He just wished Blair were there to explain it to him.

"If you would just call her-"

"I said no."

"It's not like you don't love her anymore."

"Of course not," Chuck snapped, finally sitting up. He looked more furious than anything and Nate knew never to say anything like that again. "That would never happen. No matter what."

"You should tell her that."

"She knows."

"You're not exactly the most forward person," Nate said. "She's not a mind reader. The Empire must have been hard to get back. I'm sure she would appreciate it."

"She does."

Nate didn't know if Chuck was saying something else, because there was no positive connotation within his words. There was just disdain.

And if Nate didn't know any better, self-loathing.

"Money solves everything," Chuck said.

Nate had never heard Chuck with more self-hatred in his life.

Even when Bart was still alive.

"She appreciates that," Nate tried.

"She does," Chuck said scornfully. "She appreciates that she's not coming back."

Chuck laid back on his side, shutting out the world.

Nate wasn't sure if he wanted to know everything. But at that moment, he was sure he would do a lot to get two of his best friends back together.

They were only at home when they were together.

That was the way it always had been.

That was the way it always would be.

Like Chuck had said.

He would never stop loving her.

No matter what.

**Zofran**

_You look like you need a task._

_What I need is a Zofran. All this disingenuous generosity is making me want to vomit._

"What are you doing hiding up here?"

"I just needed to be alone."

It was easy to lie. Serena blinked lazily up at her from her own bed, and Blair remembered how easy it was to lie to her best friend. She had been doing it since she was thirteen, and today was no different.

Because he was downstairs. He was downstairs begging, pleading, and loving her. And it was too much. She knew it was too much. She had her values. She had her beliefs.

But he was still Chuck. And she knew that despite everything, she had never loved anyone as hard as him. She never loved as hard as she still did.

It was the problem. She was convinced that they had been made for each other now more than ever. They had seemed like such a beautiful accident, but either way, there was no tearing herself from him without shredding herself to pieces. But she was doing her best.

He had such a strong conviction—he believed in them more than he had believed in anything before. That worried her. Chuck Bass was indifferent and callous and he didn't care about anything but himself. But even after everything...he still looked at her like that.

Years after Nate and her culmination, things sort of just ran dry. But she knew that this was different. There was no relationship like theirs. That was the problem. And it wasn't just that he had hurt her. It was the torment. The constant torment of loving each other and hurting each other and not caring. If she could let him go, that would be a sign.

They were meant to love each other.

She was having trouble. She thought it would be easy to cut him from her.

And yet, she was still in her bathroom. The place where she so often found herself. But not because of him. Because of her. Because she couldn't be herself without kneeling on those hard tiles. It was something she had come to grips with.

And then he came along. And then he just _cared_. The way no one had before. And no one ever would.

That was the problem she was having.

His heated eyes weren't helping, his logic wasn't helping, and her soul and body screaming for him definitely weren't helping.

So she was here. She knew that this was the one time that he wouldn't follow. He wouldn't let anyone see that things were falling apart. That would mean that they were and he couldn't allow that to happen. So he spoke about calla lilies and casablancas. Because then he could distract himself from her absence.

And she was alone. And he was sorry.

He was sorry.

He was sorry.

He always apologized.

It was always something different. There was always something he was remorseful for. She believed him.

But this was too far. The both of them together was too far. They were both too twisted, too hard to be together, no matter how much they breathed for each other.

Now she was breathing on the floor of her bathroom. The way she always did when there was nothing left to do. There was nothing left to forgive. There was nothing left to love about herself. All that existed was self-loathing.

But not about him. This wasn't about him at all.

This was her.

And she should be punished for it.

"What are you doing hiding up here?"

Blair could taste the remnants of her insides on her molars.

"I just needed to be alone."

She just needed get the taste of him from the back of her mouth.

**Weakness**

_I'm happy I can give Dorota and Vanya the dream wedding they deserve._

_The only reason you're giving it is so that you can spend time with me. You know weddings are my weakness._

His breath caught in his throat. He knew it was a cliché and he knew he was getting sappy for her, but a part of him just didn't care.

"Best man's speech going that well?"

"There won't be a dry eye in the house. Trust me."

Her dress matched his tie.

He liked that.

He remembered the Sheppard Wedding. He remembered how her eyes welled up and how she had longed for Nate to ask her a dance.

Nate was at the bar.

Chuck danced with her instead. It was the only time she ever let herself get sentimental in front of him. She laid her head on his chest and he allowed himself to smell her hair. He wished he could tell her about the treachery of his best friend. He knew it would be breaking their code of brothers thing they had going, but he didn't like seeing Blair cry. Even when it was out of sentimentality.

She was pretty.

She caught him off guard.

She was the Devil.

She tempted him when he didn't know he was being tempted and she would smirk and strut and slide around him.

Chuck couldn't help but get sentimental either. Her big eyes blinked up at him and all of a sudden, his speech meant nothing. All that mattered was her and the way she raised her glass to him.

He was breathless.

He was a hopeless cliché but it didn't matter. Because she was fixing his lapel and he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her so badly that it was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

"No one enjoys their first time."

"Except you."

He couldn't stop it. It was all he thought about it. It was always on his mind. When she called him in distress over Serena, when she made her jealousy of even the lowly Georgina Sparks clear, he couldn't help but think about it. Her breathless pants and the way her nails dug into him.

Weddings made him sentimental.

But weddings made her weak.

She may not have thought it was a virtue, but Chuck never took it for granted. Weddings used to make him nervous. He saw two blondes cheating at one and his father was getting married at another.

But then there she was. She was snappish and full of badinage and care, and all of a sudden, weddings didn't frighten him anymore.

She wore white to a wedding. He had seen those tears in her eyes and that champagne flowing, and even though it had been the day of his father's funeral, something cut through the numbness and the pain.

"What are you doing here?"

_Someone_.

She was hateful and angry with him, but he loved her so much. He loved her so much that the ache in his chest cut through his grief and he wanted to tell her. He wanted her to be with him, forever and always.

Her arms had circled around his neck. She pressed her face against his back and he wanted to suffocate in himself in her scent. He wanted to drink her in, to continue this twisted addiction that he didn't remember procuring in the first place. It just happened.

He hated being without her. He wasn't himself when he was without her and he was only less miserable when he was with her.

She was it.

She was in white, whispering against his black, and he allowed himself to fall asleep in her arms.

Even though he didn't deserve it.

Most of the time, he didn't deserve her. But they deserved each other and even if they were sad sometimes, that didn't mean that they weren't in ecstasy.

He knew he made her sad sometimes. But only as much as she made him sad. And it was so sweet and real and he knew that he would never be as alive as he was when they were together.

That's when he realized it. He had known all along. He was just stubborn, selfish, and so like her that he couldn't help it.

"I cannot wait for you to be my husband."

He stared at the side of Blair's face, willing her to look at him, and he was vindicated in the end. Because she smiled at him shyly and he couldn't help but pull her into a dark corner of the loft.

He allowed them one romantic dance before being his selfish self again and monopolizing her all for himself.

"Chuck."

He grunted a response as he kissed her neck, allowing her to speak.

"You're taking advantage of me."

"Am I?" he smirked.

"You always seem to get me into some sort of embrace or another at a wedding."

"It wouldn't be a tradition if we didn't," he teased.

"It's not like you didn't know it's my weakness."

He stopped for a second, before holding onto her tightly. Her eyes were on his and he wasn't stopping.

"I love you so much."

For a moment, he thought he saw a glint of moisture in her eye, but she was kissing him furiously before he could catch it.

"I don't know what I would do without you," he said into her ear.

"I would die without you."

He gave a slight moan, but he couldn't help himself.

He never could when it came to her.

Weddings were her weakness. But they were his too. Because he knew that one day she would be his wife.

She always made him weak for her.

In all the best ways.


	31. Unblairable Lightness of Being Part III

A/N: Originally I wasn't going to do the last allusion since I didn't know what was being alluded to, but thanks to The Very Last Valkyrie, who let me steal her idea, I realized the potential. So here it is.

Summary: "You know, Waldorf," Chuck said, ignoring her past comment completely. "I would have no problem taking any flower you offered to me. I would never dream of leaving you unsatisfied."

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. All quotes belong to Gossip Girl and the 3rd season. Corrections were by my beta comewhatmay.x.

* * *

**Magnetic**

_You and I are magnetic. You can feel it. _

"You went up there on your own."

It was hard and hot and he didn't like it. It wasn't even the slap that he couldn't bear. He knew he deserved it.

"Goodbye, Chuck."

He knew she was ending things when she walked away. But that didn't mean he didn't feel it. Something that always existed between them, but remained unacknowledged until she stripped away her clothes at his first club.

Passion.

It was why she didn't hate that he had taken her virginity away and why he still had hope. There was still that thing between them. It was so potent and so powerful that even after three years, it hadn't ceased.

It was clear that as he was sheepishly offering her flowers, her eyes filled with mistrust and heartbreak, that there was something there.

"We've done something like this before. Remember?"

She was beautiful and snappy, her hands on his shoulders, pulling him in more than he could ever pull her in.

"No talking. Just dance."

It was what they always said.

_No talking._

Because they could convey so much between them without even speaking.

_Shut up and dance with me._

He could still catch her off guard.

"You have to admit, no matter what the prize, we can't lose."

He let his fingers trace sensual patterns across her arm, a part of her so non-sexual, yet she still shivered. And he was still salivating over her.

It was the way they had always been. From the beginning.

Diamonds and birthdays had been no contest because they were just something that had always been. Even before the alliances and cheating boyfriends. They would look at each other and be able to tell exactly what the other was thinking.

Until it all exploded. Until it was all limos and heated glances.

Until he fucked it all up. Again.

But he couldn't stop it. A part of him wanted to just let her go. He had tried so hard to forget her.

But it had always been there. So much that there came a point where he just had to give up. He just had to let gravity pull him towards her.

Because there had never been any other way.

"The thing that always fascinated me about you—the cool exterior, the fire below."

Again her retort was clear and calculated. And yet again, he had to put his hands on her.

"Where does he put his hands?"

Her hand curled in his and he needed her. He needed her alone and in the dark, and he knew that fate was on his side when the power went out.

"Marcus? Is that you?"

But she knew. Even before he stepped into the room, before he spoke in his fake accent, she knew it was him.

"Is that you?"

She knew.

"Blow out your candle."

His grip was tight and her arms were slick with perspiration but he kissed her and he knew this was the way it was supposed to be.

No guilt.

No regrets.

Just them.

Tangled limbs as moonlight washed over them.

It was undeniable.

It was magnetic.

**Undeniable**

_Our pull is as undeniable as ever._

He never let himself think about it. But the truth had always been there. He never let himself think about it. She was taken. She was frigid.

She was completely desirable.

He never thought about it. But the truth was, Chuck Bass always knew there was something about Blair Waldorf.

"She better not show her face again."

"I'm actually hoping she will."

He liked it when she looked at him like that. He knew he was the only one to really see it. She would never dare act in such a depraved manner in front of her sweet boyfriend. She would never even consider letting the outside world, so convinced of her virtue, see who she really was underneath.

But he liked it.

It excited him. It always had.

But he never thought about it. He let himself admire her audacity and her gift for gutting carcasses of dead social lives, but other than that, it was out of his realm.

She belonged to his best friend. And that was that.

"You have got to be kidding."

"This should be fun."

Nate was always angry at her for it. He didn't understand, and he didn't accept it. Chuck didn't even know why they were together. Maybe Blair had once been that innocent little girl, but Chuck still refused to believe that.

"I think you know what you have to do to get his attention."

She was beautiful.

But he didn't think like that.

"What's this?"

"The key to my suite, Nate's heart, and your future happiness."

He liked that smirk. It wasn't that he necessarily cared for her happiness, but he knew as well as the next person that the queen could be vicious.

And he liked that.

"I'm honored to be playing even a small role in your deflowering."

And that was the truth of it.

Sitting in his new club, feeling Blair Waldorf radiate with slight inebriation and palpable sexuality, he realized something he never had before.

He wanted her.

She was beautiful. She was vindictive. She was tempting.

She was available.

He never let himself think about it. It was against all of the loyalty that he believed in. She was Nate's.

But she wasn't anymore. She was his friend.

And she was free.

His words weeks ago never held more weight and as she tossed him a roll of her eyes and strutted up those stairs, he knew something very dangerous.

He wanted her.

All of her.

He wanted her panting his name and scraping her nails down his back. He wanted her legs hitched around his waist.

He wanted her virginity.

She was stripping and she was gyrating and he knew that was the way it had always been. This was who she really was. This was the person she never let anyone see before.

This was the person he felt for.

And he knew she was the only person.

She was manipulative and smart, she was hot and she was pulling him in. She didn't know what she was doing, but they were getting closer and closer.

She kissed him and pulled on his lapels, forcing him out of his tight constraints, and he knew that she felt the same way.

They pulled.

And pulled.

And pulled.

Until they crashed into each other, bursting into white, ecstatic oblivion.

**Dance**

_We've done something like this before. Remember?_

_No talking. Just dance._

It was laughable. The very idea that Chuck Bass would be attending an Abstinence Club meeting. But the only way to win a bastard's affection was to do so when he thought you didn't know he was looking.

Bart would never believe that his own son could ever be abstinent—and Chuck was sure Bart would never want it in the first place. But the moment Chuck Bass walked into the room between the joint schools, he knew there was a reason for everything.

"Well this is the last place I'd expect to find you."

He liked the way the sentence weighed on his tongue. He liked the accusatory tone and the smug aside so much, he was sure he would use it again in the future.

But for now, he just liked teasing Blair Waldorf.

"This is really the last place you'd expect to find me?" Blair asked doubtfully, detaching herself from her bloodthirsty minions. "Chuck Bass actually choosing abstinence. Hell must have frozen over."

"Choosing has nothing to do with it," Chuck answered.

"The all powerful will of the critical parent."

"And you?" Chuck asked doubtfully. "After Serena's dramatic reappearance, I would have thought abstinence would be the last thought on your mind."

He loved the way Blair's face grew cold with fury.

"Or was that your attempt at your mother's cocktail party?" Chuck asked. "The one that failed."

"How do you know it failed?" Blair asked calmly.

He had to admire her.

"You mean after you came storming down from my suite, obviously unsatisfied at my father's brunch?" Chuck parried.

"At least Nate has some class," Blair said. "He would never rush me into anything I wouldn't want to do."

"You know, Waldorf," Chuck said, ignoring her past comment completely. "I would have no problem taking any flower you offered to me. I would never dream of leaving you unsatisfied."

"In your dreams is the only way you'd ever have me," Blair smiled cruelly. "What are you even doing here, Bass?"

"I was bored."

"You find vestal virgins quoting Bible verses to be entertaining?" Blair asked.

"As entertaining as you find pretending to be one of them," Chuck replied. "You really get off on the fact that everyone thinks you're just some innocent society princess when, for the past week, all you've been trying to do is get into your boyfriend's pants."

"I'm not perverse like you."

"I could help you get off," Chuck uttered darkly in her ear.

"Get away from me."

"Your denial of our animalistic attraction is getting tired," Chuck teased in a way that he knew she couldn't stand.

"Not that," Blair said, rolling her eyes. "I just don't want to get paired with you."

"Paired for what?"

He shouldn't have bothered because Blair was groaning in annoyance (and nothing else) and he was being presented with a red balloon, which was completely baffling to him.

"What?"

"Just shut up and dance with me," Blair heaved dramatically, her hands gripping his shoulders. In any other context, he would have welcomed the contact with pleasure. But there was a balloon between them, and looking around him at the identical couples, it still wasn't coming to him.

"It's practicing abstinence, Bass," Blair said. "The idea is to not pop the balloon."

"Why would I pop the balloon?" Chuck asked. But at that moment there was the sound of a burst and an embarrassed looking sophomore pulled away from his partner.

"So this is Abstinence Club," Chuck smirked. "Now I understand why you come here."

"And why do you think that is?" Blair asked. He could tell she was just curious about his opinion. Nevertheless, he always liked to tease.

"It stokes your ego," Chuck said. "Dancing with males who are so aroused by your frigidity that they pop a balloon between the two of you. Though I do have to object to the color. Red does not do well to deter anyone from having sex."

"You would know."

"I would," he smirked. "I always love those little red numbers you prance around in."

"If you're quite finished," Blair said crossly.

"What are you really afraid of?" Chuck asked. "For someone so powerful, you can be so threatened."

"The higher you are, the harder the fall."

"You really think your social standing has to do with your relationship with Nathaniel?"

"I think if I don't lock him down then everyone will think I'm weak," Blair said. "And that is not an option."

"Good thing you have me on your side," he responded.

"And what good does that do except offer me endless irritation?" Blair asked.

"Face it, Waldorf," Chuck said. "You need me. You'd be completely bored without my constant presence."

"Well your presence isn't needed here," Blair said. "This is the one place where I'm not judged for being a virgin."

"I never judge you," Chuck said. "In fact, if you were to forsake all of this abstaining nonsense and happen to get lost with me in the faculty bathroom, I would rather admire you."

"You are either completely deluded, or get satisfaction from my constant rejection of you," Blair sighed.

"Please," Chuck slung back. "You are desperate to get me alone. Especially with all this talk of restrained desire and urges."

"You think so?"

"You're practically panting for me."

"Do you really want to play this game with me right now, Bass?"

"You know how I love playing with you," Chuck rasped darkly in her ear.

"Really?" Blair asked. "In front of all of these people?"

It hadn't occurred to him the very compromising position he was.

Until he realized that this was Blair Waldorf.

Blair was ruthless and beautiful.

She was just like him. And right now, she was dead set on destroying him just for the fun of it.

He didn't mind.

He didn't mind solely because she was sliding her hands up his shoulders sensually.

He didn't mind.

Her fingers were tousled through her locks until she had pinned it away from her neck.

Never in his life had Chuck thought he would have a weakness. He did always have a penchant for the nape of the neck.

There was a sudden deafening silence as the remains of their balloon fluttered the ground.

"Would you look at that," Blair said in a bored tone that he knew so well. "Your balloon popped."

"Yes it did," Chuck said with surprise.

Surprise because there was a woman standing in front of him. She didn't belong to him. No one ever did. She had a boyfriend. She had a posse. She had people that loved her.

But no one desired her. No one ever had before.

Chuck always had a weakness.

He just didn't think that weakness was Blair Waldorf.

"Bitch."


	32. Unblairable Lightness of Being Part IV

**Summary**: Past the path of destruction and right into hell. She had destroyed him. She had taken his heart and let it bleed through her fingers. She had destroyed something that he hadn't even realized existed.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing is mine. Characters are GG. Corrections are beta **comewhatmay.x**.

* * *

**Consolation**

_I don't want this to be you settling. Some sort of consolation._

_We've both hit rock bottom, Chuck. But we've hit it together. At least we won't be lonely in hell._

_That's not what we're-_

_I should see if anyone needs me. I thought you'd be happy._

"I came to congratulate you in person."

Her voice was dry and sounded as dead as he felt. It was this cold and painful fact that made him realize that she was, in all probability, the one for him. She was cold and distant, and he knew that there was only one way that this could go.

Past the path of destruction and right into hell. She had destroyed him. She had taken his heart and let it bleed through her fingers. She had destroyed something that he hadn't even realized existed.

He might as well return the favor.

"You ruined my relationship with Nate."

And even after her destruction, she couldn't help but quarter him and stick his heart on a pike.

"Even little Jenny Humphrey thinks she's too good for me."

He didn't know what she was doing here. There had been that small part of him, who, after sending that text, had hoped she would come here begging. He had fantasized about her realizing how wrong she was and that they should be together. He didn't know why he felt the things he did. All he knew was that without her, he would feel dead as he did before That Night. And he couldn't go back to that. He couldn't be without her.

Or so he thought.

Watching her sitting there, pathetic and weak—it was revolting.

"I have no one to turn to but you."

And that was the end. He didn't want her like this. He didn't want to be her second choice. He didn't want this sullied princess, crawling around in the dirt, latching on to him in the way a parasite would.

He wanted Blair. Strong and powerful; beautiful and fearless.

He wanted his queen.

And she didn't exist anymore. All that remained was this living shell that would just as well become a leech for Nathaniel.

She would be a leech for anyone that would help her survive.

And he wanted her to survive on her own.

So he smashed her into pieces.

In the only way that he could.

"Actually, you don't even have me."

"_Enough_."

"I'll try to be more succinct."

She didn't look at him with the admiration that he had so foolhardily bestowed on her. He was just a body. And he didn't want this. He didn't want her like this.

He couldn't be second.

"You held a certain fascination when you were beautiful," Chuck said eloquently, "delicate, and untouched."

He knew he was reaching double standard territory, but he wouldn't stop. He wouldn't stop hurting her when she had bruised and bled him dry.

But truthfully, his words were the most surprising of the situation and she had truly forgotten who he was. He was Chuck Bass. And she had forgotten that he wasn't Nate. She had forgotten that he wouldn't just bow down at her feet just because she asked him to. She had hurt him and he would wreak his vengeance as he saw fit.

She thought that she would be enough. She thought that sitting here, he would be at least happy she was with him.

She forgot.

She forgot that he was like her.

She had forgotten that he had standards.

"Now you're like," Chuck mused, "one of the Arabians my father used to own. Rode hard and put away wet."

And there it was. Her cosmic dark eyes welling with emotion he never thought he would see because of him.

He had broken her. And it was enough. Because that ensured that she cared, at least a little.

A little to at least one day more to think of him as more than a consolation prize.

"I don't want you anymore. And I can't see why anyone else would."

One day she would be better.

One day she would want him again.

**For Nothing**

_When your uncle threw me out-_

_Wait. He threw you out? You didn't actually..._

_Why are you laughing?_

_Because nothing happened. This was all for nothing._

He hadn't read the note beforehand. He had bought the dress, put it on his credit cards, and ignored the fact that she must look so cruelly perfect in it. But the card was all Jack's doing.

**One last chance to save your man.**

It was a split second. It was just one second that he forgot about everything. He forgot about his hotel. He forgot about his plans. He forgot about his betrayal.

All he could think of was her. She was going to offer herself to his uncle. He was going to have her the way he had a year ago when Bart was rotting in the ground and Chuck was plagued with her tears and her love that he didn't deserve.

He didn't deserve it even more presently.

In a split second, he almost made a break for it. He almost hurled the note across the room, to not even bother with the limo but run at a breakneck speak to save her.

But then that split second was over.

He let the note flutter to the ground and he knew that he was helpless. It was of his own making. He had done this. He couldn't admit that he was destroying them because the idea that they would survive this was the only thing that was keeping him going.

But he knew it was his own fault. He knew that sending her to his uncle was the worst thing he could ever do. The jealousy and anger frothing within him at even the thought of them together was incomprehensible. He couldn't even classify the rage and insecurity that made his insides twist painfully.

But at that moment, his self-loathing was more. His uncle's note lay on the ground and he stood in the bathroom.

He stood in her bathroom, glaring at his own reflection.

This bathroom always made him uncomfortable. It was so perfect and so neat, when he knew what she really did in here. It was the messiest bathroom on the Upper East Side, and he knew that it would be the one thing he could never fix. He could understand that about her. He could read her and elate her. But it would never be enough. It would never stop her own self-loathing and her own mother's voice reverberating through her.

The tragic thing was that he could understand that better than anyone. His vices just included scotch and powder clinging to his nose. It was just as dangerous and just as fulfilling.

But he didn't deserve that now. Now he just glared at his reflection. There was nothing left to do.

There was nothing left to do but wait for her.

On the surface, Chuck was ice. It was something that only the best on the Upper East Side could pull off.

Starting with Blair.

Chuck knew how to wear the mask as though it were his own face. It was in his blood. In hers too. He looked calm. He looked at ease.

Or at least he thought he did. He was sure that was what everyone else saw. But looking at the mirror above her sink, he suddenly wasn't sure.

Chuck immediately hunched over the sink and vomited. His throat felt eroded with stomach acid. He gazed curiously at the spatter of what was left of his billion scotches of that one horrible day.

He found the note on the ground. It was near the box from the store he would forever hate for the things he would never forgive himself for doing. Chuck bent down to pick it up.

But he didn't come back up.

His knees bent farther, and even though the note was prim and straight in his hand, he didn't come up. He slid against her wall, slamming the note to the ground once again. Jack's name burned into his fingers, and it all came up. His internal feelings were already splattered all over Blair's sink, but he felt it. He felt emotion and he couldn't hold it back.

Except this time he wasn't on her bed. This time it wasn't his father's funeral and she wasn't there to hold him. She was saving his hotel, completely unaware of his role in making it happen.

He buried the heels of his palms into his eyes, but it didn't stop the wetness. It didn't stop the feeling in him that only she could incur. It hurt and it was terrible, and he was just glad that Serena found him there before his distress could escalate further.

"Hey."

He had successfully wiped away the evidence before she could get a good look at him.

"What are you..."

"Nothing," Chuck said sternly, refusing to allow his voice to crack.

"Did you find Blair?"

"She'll be here," Chuck said.

It wasn't confidence. It wasn't relief. He knew she would come back. He knew that she wouldn't stay at the Empire.

She had slept with his uncle.

There was no way getting around that.

She slept with the one man he could never beat and that was a fact. He knew he would never recover if he had discovered she had cheated on him.

This was worse. This was worse by the measurement of leagues and eons.

Serena was there.

He was glad, because that meant he couldn't allow himself to overdose on pain and self-medication.

Blair slept with his uncle.

Again.

That was a fact.

And that hurt more than the loss of his hotel ever could.

**Boredom**

_I want what Dorota and Vanya have. Real love. Pure and simple love._

_You'd be bored in five minutes._

It had been simpler then.

"So you slept with your best friend's boyfriend. I kind of admire you for it."

It had been so simple when it was just him and Blair, running around and exacting revenge. When Serena was just a joke and he could be as distant and callous as he wanted.

He had, at one time, admired Serena for her apparent heartlessness. He had, at one time, thought that it was Serena who was most like him.

And then that one time turned into _that_ time.

That time the very recent ex-girlfriend of his very real best friend sneered at his transparent attempts at being Chuck and showed him who she truly was by mounting a stage and shredding her clothes.

The time he had refused to believe he was falling for her, even though the transvestite behind him was very aware of that fact.

It had been simple back then. No feelings. No emotion. No angst.

Then again, there had been no Blair either.

Chuck always saw it. The way Serena glittered with ostentatious light while Blair shone with her less gaudy perfection. He saw the way that Nate stared.

And he knew how it affected her.

He was staring. Because she was beauty and she was heat and the thought that she was vulnerable and wounded was the last thing on his mind.

Because she just wasn't.

She was empowerment and she was seduction.

That was when he knew. It was the exact moment that he understood what had been happening between them since adolescence. The smirks, the bantering, the snark. Something that Chuck didn't even see coming.

But he knew her. It was how he knew where to touch her, what to say, what to do.

It was why they fit so well together. Chuck never thought he would ever meet someone who could mirror him so completely that he would never be bored.

And the second he saw Blair and Nate together, he knew it was the same for her.

She was too ethereal for his best friend. Too celestial, something dear Nathaniel couldn't even understand.

"What was that?"

She was furious and she was Blair and he just had to remember his indignation at her rejection of him yet again.

"I should ask you the same question," Chuck sneered. "'Perfect Gentleman? Perfect date?' That broken record was a hit last year. Get with the times. He bores you."

Her hesitation in going for the kill only convinced him further that he was right.

Like it always had been.

Blair was a tigress. Blair was a hunter. Blair was a warrior.

And he knew that no one deserved Cathy like his corresponding Heathcliff. Even if she was refusing to admit it.

"Nate is a gentleman. He would never cause a scene."

"Never get your blood going, either."

He was smug and he was confident and even though he heard her snide retort and felt the pain, he knew that they would be perfect together.

They weren't perfect, but that was just what made them right.

_Never got your blood going either._

Spiked adrenaline.

Quick breaths.

Sharp chills.

Chuck knew it all. But with her, everything was all the more real, all the more passionate, and all the more fantastic.

And he knew that she felt the same way.

"I have the scars to prove it."

He knew why she was with Nate. She was a romantic. She wanted the pure and true love.

She thought that just because she wasn't bored with him that they didn't have that.

But Chuck had never felt more pure than when he was inside her.

And he never would again.


	33. Dr Estrangeloved Part I

**A/N**: To those who claim that Chuck is just a controlling freak, just know that jealousy does ugly and sometimes terrible things to people. But his love for Blair is always pure, even if his intentions are executed unfortunately. I hope you keep that in mind while reading below.

**Summary**: "You have a nasty tongue, lover," he said before leaning into her ear. "I always loved what that tongue would do to me."

**Disclaimer**: Quotes and such obviously belong to my beloved Gossip Girl's OTP Chuck and Blair. Corrections, as always, are due to my beta, **comewhatmay.x**.

* * *

**Advantage**

_So what's step two?_

_Get him drunk. Take advantage of him. Do women just not get this?_

She was alone.

There was nothing better.

It had been a week since she had made her play apparent, and time was running out for him. Soon they would return to the city and he was sure the plague of his life would bring her British lapdog with her.

Things would get more complicated once they were back on the Upper East Side.

But here, things were easy. It was easy to lull her into a false sense of security in the Hamptons.

To a point. Blair had always been careful around him, and now that their cards were shown, she was even more so.

That just meant he would have to get creative.

"Scotch. Neat."

"Ew, no thank you."

"Not for you, princess."

He had to smirk. The last time they had found themselves at a bar together, things went downhill, to say the least. Him essentially calling her a whore as she left in tears was something he didn't want to repeat.

Especially now that he was very aware of just how much he needed her.

It was unseemly.

But she was just the same.

Had been since last fall and he was going to keep it that way.

He had to smirk. She was so entitled and so sure that he had come for her, he couldn't help but be amused. She was selfish, vain, and just like him.

Just because he couldn't say three particular words didn't make them any less true. But showing her just how much she had damaged him was not the way he was going to get her back.

So for now, they would just do this.

Chuck accepted the drink the bartender slid his way.

"What are you even doing here?" she asked in a tone that could be considered a drawl.

He had taught his girl well. He was almost convinced that he was boring her.

Almost.

"I could ask you the same question," Chuck stated. "Where's your dapper dalliance?"

"Just because I have a boyfriend doesn't mean I'm submissive," she sniffed. "I can go out if I like."

"I remember."

She scoffed in that way that was supposed to portray disgust.

But didn't she remember that shame turned him on? Didn't she know that he liked her callous way with him because they so reminded him of himself?

"Try the martini," he advised.

"I think I'll stay away from a drink that's pure gin when I'm around you, thank you," she said dismissively.

"Why?" he asked. "Afraid you can't trust yourself around me?"

"More like I can't trust you around me," she answered. But she took a dainty sip of whatever was in front of her and Chuck wondered how long she had been sitting at this bar.

Chuck never took his eyes off of her as he drained his glass. The bartender took his cue and filled it again.

"Come on, Waldorf," Chuck said. "You're lagging behind."

A strange look crossed her face, but he kept drinking.

"And here I thought you were worth me," Chuck said. "You used to be able to keep up."

He took another drink.

She scoffed with realization.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?"

She was so pure. Pure like white lines cut on mirrors. He loved that about her.

"Yes," Chuck stated without remorse.

"You're disgusting."

"Don't sound so surprised," he replied.

"So that's how you do it?" Blair asked. "Get girls drunk so they're pliant for you?"

"You have a nasty tongue, lover," he said before leaning into her ear. "I always loved what that tongue would do to me."

She pushed him away, but that didn't stop the light scent of gin from wafting towards him.

It looked like his work had been done for him already.

"Stop."

For the first time their banter seemed to fade into the background, and he heard the first sign of sincerity in her tone.

"Just give me a taste," he whispered.

He crossed the line.

"I'm with Marcus," Blair snapped. He never really could tell how far was too far. And when it came to Blair, his indifference for boundaries escalated. She was Blair. That was all the reason he needed.

"_Marcus_," he said sneeringly. "Are you really still using him as an excuse to keep me at arm's length?"

"I don't need an excuse," she retorted. "If you really wanted me, you wouldn't have screwed everything up."

"Does it upset you that I did?" he asked soberly.

"Did it upset me that you utterly humiliated me by standing me up?" Blair asked incredulously.

He assumed it was a rhetorical question.

"I thought it was just mildly."

"At least Marcus doesn't sabotage me every chance he gets," Blair said curtly.

"Does he bore you as much as Nate did?" Chuck asked swiftly. "You did say that you feel the same way about him."

"If it hurts you, it's worth the price," she answered.

"That just shows you how much I care, then," he said.

"That doesn't mean I do."

"Don't you?" he asked. "If you didn't care, you wouldn't be going to such lengths for retribution. And you know what we had."

"And what was that?" Blair asked. "Hurt? Betrayal?"

"Don't tell me you don't remember," Chuck sighed languidly. "How you begged me to take advantage of you in my limo."

Her face contorted with discomfort, but he knew that was just a sign to continue. She never liked showing her dark side. But he loved it so much.

"You were such a little nymphomaniac," Chuck husked seductively in her ear. "Even though I still had so much to teach you. How much I still do."

Her breath was halting and he knew he had to take his opportunity before she convinced herself that she hated him again.

"Don't you remember?"

His hand was as smooth as his voice and she realized too late how deep she was in. His hand glided confidently across her bare leg, slipping between her smooth thighs. For a moment, she had forgotten. She forgot how this was supposed to be wrong. He was her ex, for all intents and purposes, and he could not be taking such liberties with her.

No matter how good it felt.

No matter how right it felt.

She exhaled in something she refused to believe was a moan.

And then she snapped out of it.

He was just thankful it wasn't her hand across his face.

"You're revolting."

"That never made you shy before," he mocked.

She hated drinking.

She hated how it made her susceptible to certain things and how attractive it made him.

Moreover, she hated how vulnerable and emotional it made her.

"You're the epitome of class." She knew all too late that her words were starting to slur.

"You knew that already," Chuck said. "You should have seen that one coming."

"I should have seen you liquoring me up?"

"You did that all yourself," he said. "Do you really not get it?"

"That you're vile and unethical?"

"That I have to take every opportunity when it presents itself," he said. "I fight dirty, but that's exactly how you like it."

"Don't flatter yourself."

He hated her. He hated how the word unethical ran cold through him. Only with her would he care about something as irrelevant as morals.

He had to fight dirty. It was the only way he could win Blair Waldorf.

And she knew that.

"Maybe I should escort you home," Chuck suggested. "You look a little tipsy."

"The house is just up the street," Blair said, but she knew, as she slid off her chair, that Chuck Bass was always at least a little bit right.

"How convenient," he said. "I have to ask, did you plan this?"

Blair stalled, unable to even think due to complete shock.

"Excuse me?"

"Admit it," he said tauntingly. "This was all a part of your little scheme."

"You have got to be kidding," Blair said in disbelief at his audacity. But she was just as bad. Because she was the one listening to him. She was the one giving the Devil the time of day when she had a perfectly nice boy at home.

Nice.

She couldn't understand why she was such a masochist.

"Were you waiting here for me," Chuck breathed hoarsely, "praying that I'd take advantage of you? Praying that I'd take you the way your boy would never dream of? Like I used to."

She turned her head away but this was what he did. He was a seducer of women and she hated how she wasn't any different to him.

"In all those depraved ways you can't admit to anyone that you crave?" Chuck asked. "Especially him. All those special things that I taught you to desire. To feel."

"If you think you can manipulate me like the others, I still have so much left to teach you," Blair shot back. "And you'll learn the hard way."

"God, I hope so."

She hated him. Truly. She couldn't understand why she was so attracted to every single aspect of him.

But she was.

Slamming the door was the only release she could get out of her frustration. Frustration that he always seemed to bring with him when he sent chills up her spine.

And just let her walk away.

For now.

**Fatwa**

_I didn't put a fatwa on you. The reason no one showed up today is because no one could ever measure up to what we had. I'm obviously not the only guy who knows that._

"I heard about your little rebound reception."

To be sure, it had been an understatement at the time. She had been so sure of his alleged betrayal, but he had to give it to her. She knew him better than anyone else.

Chuck had always found 'eligible bachelor' such a strange phrase. In the purest sense of the word, he had always considered himself one. The womanizing, fornicating, lecherous meaning of that word was everything that he had believed in himself.

The fact that some of those bachelors would be eligible enough for Blair Waldorf to move on with was laughable.

Especially because she was Blair Waldorf. And she couldn't be anyone else's. Not anymore.

Not ever again.

He did, however, take it as a personal favor that she didn't invite Nathaniel. That didn't mean that he wouldn't find out about it. He may have had certain personality traits that others would find unseemly, but he had his ways.

Walking into Park Avenue Winter, it had not been that difficult to spot the deception. That table looked vaguely familiar and the rustling of paper as soon as he walked into the room was a tip-off.

"Gentlemen," Chuck greeted cordially as he approached the table.

"Bass."

He was sure he would have remembered them if he actually attended class during high school. Or actually cared about Upper West Siders.

Without preamble, he pulled up a seat beside them, making it clear he wasn't leaving.

"We weren't going to go."

"Go where?" Chuck asked conversationally. They exchanged grudging looks. "It must me something important if you're going to hide it."

"It's not like we owe you anything."

"And yet," Chuck said, "you seem to want to."

"We heard you broke up."

It was at that simple sentence that anger flooded Chuck's veins. He didn't need to look at the invitations to know exactly what that underhanded ex of his was doing.

And he wouldn't have it.

"Irrelevant," Chuck said darkly.

"It seems pretty...final."

Chuck knew what they were insinuating. It wasn't as though he could make it come off as though this was just a squabble and they would resume their usual activities in a few weeks' time.

She had officially declared war.

And he would retaliate, by any means necessary.

"Is she really something you'd risk this for?" Chuck asked, leaning forward threateningly.

"Risk what?"

"Do you really have to ask?" Chuck sneered.

He was Chuck Bass.

"She's dangerous," Chuck announced, getting to his feet. "I just through you should know."

"Then I guess you're a match."

The fact that it was acknowledged was the only solace he could get out of this.

**The Bass Arm**

_A party? Where two of you are guests? Perfect. Brimming with young men who are not socially astute enough to fear the length of the Bass arm._

At the beginning, Blair had actually believed that she was starting to become repugnant. The moment Chuck Bass had told her those three little words, something happened. They had spent so many perfect weeks in limos and suites and dark hallways that she hadn't noticed it at first. She didn't usually interact with men other than Nate—and Chuck.

Even Dan Humphrey was that exception.

She hadn't noticed.

She hadn't noticed how men averted their eyes. She hadn't noticed gazes that no longer lingered. She hadn't noticed how whenever she walked into a room with Chuck by her side, men would walk the other way.

It hadn't been obvious because that was how it usually was when she was in Serena's proximity anyway.

"The venison fallow."

Chuck handed his menu over to the waiter.

"And for the lady?"

Blair smiled up at him. The waiter seeming polite.

"She'll have the same," Chuck said darkly. Blair stared at her boyfriend across the table as the waiter obediently took the menu.

He wasn't looking at her. He was glaring up at the waiter.

"What was that?" she asked sharply, once he was out of earshot.

"What?" Chuck asked, taking a casual sip of his drink. "I thought you wanted the venison."

"Not the point," Blair said. "I'm pretty sure the help don't deserve your abuse."

"He did."

"Why?"

"He was overstepping his bounds."

"What does that even mean?" she asked.

Chuck took another drink.

In high school, Blair never really thought about it. She never thought about Chuck's pointed comments about her best friend or his blatant attempt to keep her dateless for the Snowflake Ball.

She would have thought that since they were officially dating that his jealousy would diminish at least slightly. But now she was sure it was just getting worse. He was irrational and paranoid and she wondered what she could have done to make him act in such a manner.

"Let me ask you a question."

She didn't know his name. But he was her age, mildly attractive, and was surely part of their society. As she had thought he would, he looked away from her.

What she originally thought was disgust was something different entirely.

Fear.

"Hey," Blair said sharply, clapping her hands in front of his face. "Pay attention."

They both knew she had caught him in a corner and he looked back up at her uncertainly.

"We were talking," she reminded him.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I can't talk to you, Miss Waldorf."

"Do we know each other?" she asked.

"Well," he laughed uncomfortably. "A lot of people know you."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," she said. "To put it simply, I need to know why I'm repugnant to the male eye."

"You're not," he said in surprise. "You're actually really..."

"Yes?" she prodded with flattery.

"We shouldn't be talking."

"So you find me attractive but you don't to talk to me," Blair said. "Do you want to do something else to me?"

Desperate times.

She hoped subtle innuendo would scare him out of hiding.

"I have to go," he said, alarmed, and trying to escape.

It just scared him.

"Why?"

"You're Chuck Bass' girlfriend."

And there it was.

"I _knew_ it," Blair snapped, more to herself than anything. But it did seem to placate the stranger and he took his seat again. "I can't believe he did this."

"Did what?" he asked.

"You're honestly telling me he didn't threaten you in any way?" Blair asked doubtfully.

"I've never met him," he admitted. "But everyone knows Chuck Bass."

"And that makes you afraid of me?"

"Not of you," he replied. "Everyone knows his reputation. And if he's actually committed to you, we know what will happen if someone even looks at you."

"Interesting," Blair said, sitting back.

"I'm not surprised," he said.

"What?" Blair asked shortly.

"If you were mine, I wouldn't like anyone looking at you either."

Blair couldn't help but be flattered.

"You think I'm pretty."

"God, I think you're-"

But he broke off, looking across the room.

"Ignore him," Blair said, knowing exactly who was looking over at them.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked.

Blair nodded.

"What makes you different?"

Blair narrowed her eyes.

"Why are you together?" he asked. "I always wondered how the two of you got together."

Suddenly her anger for her worse half dissipated and she sighed. Being an internet celebrity did have its downside.

"He sees me," Blair said.

That was all the explanation that was needed.

"You had to turn to Chuck Bass to be accepted?" he asked. "You must be as bad as him."

"You can leave now," Blair said darkly. And just in time, because she felt him behind her, his presence a sudden comfort and she knew that he had only meant the best.

She knew he was afraid. She knew he was insecure.

She got to her feet, turning and, to his surprise, winding her arms around his neck, kissing him pleasantly.

"Is there a problem here?" Chuck asked, but she could tell he wasn't expecting it.

"No," she said, taking his hand and leading him away. "Come on. I want to dance."


	34. Dr Estrangeloved Part II

**A/N**: More of a drabbly collection, but I hope you still enjoy.

**Summary**: She wanted so badly to have Chuck out of her life. She wanted to get over him. But she knew the truth. She had never been over Chuck a day in her life and she knew there was a chance that she never would.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing belongs to me. All are the beatuiful quotations of my beloved Chuck and Blair. Corrections courtesy of **comewhaymay.x**.

* * *

**RA**

_Art party. Brooklyn. She wasn't kidding. 500 it is. I know an RA can use the money._

Chuck never really liked going to the Village. He liked having Blair by his side. It wasn't a matter of convenience. He just knew that NYU was beneath her. He wished she had applied to Ivies—where she belonged. He liked having her at the Empire with him.

This was a different matter altogether, however. He had known that since she had made it clear that she was convinced they weren't supposed to be together. Now he had to make the arduous trek down to the Village with unwashed artists for the sole fact that he knew Blair wouldn't chance meeting him on his own turf. She could hide among the pretentious brooders, counting on the fact that he wouldn't venture there.

She was wrong. Because the fact was, he didn't need to be there to survey the situation.

Bribes were implemented for a reason.

"Chuck Bass."

Normally, Chuck didn't indulge in this sort of behavior—that is, conversing with a man wearing sandals.

This was a uncomfortable moment of desperation.

And this wasn't the first time Chuck was desperate when it came to Blair Waldorf.

"I didn't think I'd be seeing you around here."

Chuck paused at Blair's door, sure that even if she was home, he wouldn't be gaining entry. The best he could hope for would be the door slamming in his face. Or maybe another slap. At least she would be touching him willingly.

Instead, he found himself formulating a completely different plan.

"And why is that?" Chuck asked coolly.

The RA knew Chuck. Everyone seemed to know Chuck Bass, but Blair's door was right next to the RA's office and her boyfriend seemed to show up at all hours of night with various fragrances, spanning from cologne to single malt scotch.

But what he also saw was the boyfriend himself. The way he looked at the girl when she opened the door to her dorm room. And he knew that something had changed vastly. Especially if Chuck was here so early in the day.

"Well..." the RA said uncomfortably.

"You hear a lot of things," Chuck mused, "don't you? Conversations between girls in this hall."

"I guess."

This really wasn't what his job entailed. Passing along information to a volatile ex.

"That's how you know that Blair and I are..." Chuck mused, "temporarily at odds."

"Is that what you call it?" he asked. "That wasn't how she told it."

"She was talking about it?"

"I think it was her maid or something," the RA said. "She doesn't really talk to other girls on the floor."

"And what was she saying?"

"I..."

"How about I make it worth your while," Chuck offered, pulling his money clip out from his breast pocket. He was met with wide eyes and it was easier than he thought.

"That's a lot of money," he stated.

"And you'll get it."

The RA looked doubtful, but Chuck knew he had him.

"What do you know?"

**Smokescreen**

_You know what you did to Blair._

_And I'm paying for it._

_Yeah. Seems like you're having the time of your life._

_After all of these years, you can't see through one of my smokescreens?_

Girls.

Girls.

Girls.

That was what was so confusing about the situation. He didn't want to believe it at first.

He couldn't.

"Did you sleep with her?"

And then he did.

"You son of a bitch, I could kill you right now."

"Look, could we talk about this without your hands around my neck?"

He was too calm. That was always the problem. He was always so indifferent and apathetic. He wasn't capable of genuine feeling.

That was what was really frightening.

He was furious of the betrayal—both of theirs. He hated that she had lost her virginity to his best friend and that his best friend had taken his girlfriend for his own.

But that wasn't it.

Chuck Bass was Chuck Bass. What he really hated—what he really couldn't stand—was the fact that Chuck never cared about her. He couldn't. He was just using her as his own personal plaything, without any thought of what he would do to her.

"Did you give it to her like you did all those other girls?"

"Yes, Nathaniel. I took what Blair kept throwing at you and you kept throwing back."

"So you screwing Blair for sport is _my _fault?

"She needed someone and I was there."

"So you cared about her?"

It was inconceivable to him. And it just fueled his hatred. Maybe he could have believed in something if he had seen Chuck and Blair holding hands the next day at school. But Chuck did it better alone.

If you called violating the room service twins alone.

He couldn't believe it.

Not until the end.

"So you said you loved her."

It was a smile. Sort of. It was a Chuck Bass smirk, but there was something behind it that Nate had never seen before.

Genuine emotion.

"Never heard you say that before. About anyone."

"Are you ready to go back in?"

It was just how Chuck dealt with things. He avoided outward emotion the way he always did. The way he did with those Portuguese triplets. Nate was too caught up in his Lady and own personal drama to notice.

But then he was back where he had started. Blair was deceptive and Chuck was drinking.

He still couldn't understand it.

"It was stupid of me to think Blair changed."

"Yes."

"So she's just...the way she is."

"What I mean is it's stupid for you to want her to be anything other than she is."

It was confusing. Nate was fairly certain that Chuck had taken home a Russian ballet dancer. But here he was drinking until his veins turned to alcohol, seemingly _pining_ over someone he hadn't looked twice at for months.

There were the girls and the drugs and the parties.

But there was only one girl. There was only one girl for him.

And somehow she possessed the ability to walk through his debauchery with nothing more than a snide sneer.

Maybe she was just covering up her pain too.

Maybe they weren't just heartless.

**Jealousy**

_Do you want to make that guy who showed up jealous or what?_

_Excuse me?_

_I saw you two. Let me guess, your ex-boyfriend?_

Cameron didn't notice her at first. He didn't notice the girl so obviously out of place with her leather pants and sacrificial lambs.

But he noticed _him_.

He noticed the guy even more out of place with his designer suits and single malt scotch.

"Fancy meeting you here."

"I really don't."

"I know what you're planning."

"Do you mind?"

"Figuring that no one in Brooklyn will care about your past entanglements and mount you like you so wish someone would-"

"Enough. If you don't mind, you're scaring away the normal people."

Cameron almost intervened. He was almost that cliché who saved the damsel from the dragon.

But from where he was standing, she didn't look like she needed to be saved in the least.

From where he was standing, she didn't exactly hate the attention. She didn't like it, but it was something she was obviously used to. She fell into banter with him with such practiced ease that Cameron couldn't help but observe.

"You know I wouldn't mind mounting you. I have so missed it."

She didn't bother replying that time. Instead she just left him behind at the bar, leaving him with his smirk and scotch.

And the harem of women that seemed to flock to him, even when he was in Brooklyn.

"Is it suddenly unbearably hot in here?"

He couldn't help but be amused by the girl's antics. She was melodramatic and theatrical.

And he suddenly realized what was happening. Dark eyes were scalding across the room and it was quite clear the heat she was feeling.

"You don't have to kiss me if you don't want to."

She was beautiful. That was no doubt about that. But what Cameron found truly striking about her was the way her evident ex stared at her. He knew what she was doing. But he wasn't even sure if she wanted it.

"It means a lot that you would teach Chuck a lesson," she said. "No one from where I'm from would even try it."

"I'm not surprised."

The truth was, he was surprised she had gotten as far as she did. Because Chuck Bass was staring. His scotch was clenched in his hand with a glare that was unparalleled. And Cameron was starting to think this wasn't as over as Blair would have liked to believe.

"But I didn't want to make him jealous," Blair said. "That would mean that I would want him back."

"Do you?" Cameron asked. "I wouldn't blame you if you did. No one can ignore the pull of-"

"No," Blair said sharply. "No."

"You still love him," he said. "Those looks between the two of you—that's not just some ex."

"I'm sorry if he frightened you," Blair said. "He does that."

"Maybe that's just his face," Cameron offered.

And she laughed. He knew that it wasn't completely real. He knew that she was still hiding everything away.

But he didn't blame her.

He watched her walk away with her jacket and snide remarks. But then he saw something else.

He saw that angry exterior melt away at something that Blair had said. And he knew.

He was right. This wasn't anything of the norm.

Blair walked to the car without being kissed. She wanted so badly to have Chuck out of her life. She wanted to get over him. But she knew the truth. She had never been over Chuck a day in her life and she knew there was a chance that she never would.

It was certain that she never would.

She knew that when complete strangers would look at the two of them and see something that was incomprehensible.

"Chuck is a part of me. He'll always be."

There was no denying that.

Not now.

Not ever.


	35. It's A Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad World

**Summary**: He hadn't planned on any of it. He hadn't set out to sweep his best friend's current ex out from underneath him. It was just a coincidence that Blair belonged to Nate for so long.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing belongs to me. Quotes are Season 3 of Gossip Girl. Corrections to my beta, **comewhatmay.x**.

* * *

**Shame**

_Judge away. Shame turns me on._

"I missed you last night, man."

Sentences like those were getting more and more frequent. But Chuck never had a problem with that. He never had a problem with dodging Nathaniel's inquiries. Lying smoothly always came easily to him.

To say he had an incentive to keep this secret was an understatement.

"I'm here now."

"Yeah," Nate snorted. "The only time I see you is at school."

"Being a Bass has its drawbacks."

"Having dates with every call-girl in the city?" Nate asked.

"I think they would rather not refer them to as dates," Chuck replied coolly.

He didn't enjoy it. He didn't achieve some sort of perverse pleasure out of betraying his best friend. But there was just something about the entire situation.

There was a reason he was there, and as much as he hated his own disloyalty, it wasn't for Nathaniel. He hadn't planned on any of it. He hadn't set out to sweep his best friend's current ex out from underneath him. It was just a coincidence that Blair belonged to Nate for so long.

If she had been anyone else's, Chuck wouldn't have cared. He would have taken her just as quickly. There was only one difference when it came to Nate.

Shame.

"You and Nate seemed to be having an interesting conversation."

"Jealous?"

He couldn't help but sneer and be cruel. It was the same feeling that overcame him every time she mentioned his best friend's name.

Nate was her first love. And Chuck could never compete with that.

"Jealous?" Blair asked incredulously. "Of what?"

"I still have a relationship with your ex," Chuck retorted.

"And yet you're here with me," she said. "Are you completely shameless?"

Their bodies were quickly pressed together, and it was something that Chuck had only experienced with her. It happened quickly, it happened unexpectedly.

Blair Waldorf was an anomaly. He didn't want to betray Nate. But she was something else. And he just couldn't resist her.

"Shame?" he smirked. "I may be heartless, but I have been known to have some remorse on occasion."

"Then why do you bother with me?"

It happened quickly, the way it always did. When it came to the two of them, nothing was as it seemed. Every statement had several layers of alternate meaning, and he was sure that was a reason why they just couldn't let each other go.

"Because I want to."

It wasn't as though he could tell her the truth. The truth was, she was exciting. She excited him more than anyone else ever had or ever could.

But then there was that bigger truth.

Her insecurity.

The biggest truth of all was that it hurt him when she looked down like that. He didn't like that she thought she was just another girl to him.

The truth was that he cared.

But he wasn't about to tell her that.

**Listen**

_Do I want to know what you had to promise him to get him to come?_

_It wasn't me._

_It's not like he even listens to me . He probably just ran out of girls to have sex with._

"Good morning, sunshine."

She was beautiful. She always was. There was a part of him that thought about how boring that one statement could be every time he saw her, but every time he saw her, it was the truth.

And it ripped him apart.

She was right and truthful and he couldn't help but listen to her. She always had been there. She was always the one who knew his deepest turmoil and his darkest thoughts.

And it had broken them apart. It had made them so twisted that they couldn't be together any longer. But it was still there. The connection was still there. She still sneered down on _Nadine's_ leftovers and the blow coating mirrors like nothing had changed between them since they were sixteen.

They were still them.

She was beautiful.

He wished she wasn't. It would make his snide remarks and cruel comebacks so much easier to deliver. He still saw the familiar hurt she tried to cover up and he knew he had struck his mark nonetheless.

She should have known better. She should have known him better. She had the gall and the audacity to traipse through his den looking like she did and expect not to get attacked. He couldn't help it. It was her fault. She took herself away from him and now he had nothing to do but destroy himself—and her while he was at it.

But it had always been this way. Serena and Nate would beg on their hands and knees for him to do something that they thought was right.

But all it took was one.

All Blair had to do was slink in his penthouse, all heels and skirts and that damned _sincerity_ that he was the only one to see. And it was him who was on his knees.

He would hurt her and he would throw his conquests in her face, but when it came down to it, it was Blair.

And she _cared_.

She still cared.

He always listened to her. That was the way it had always been and the way it always would be.

She didn't tell him that Lily needed him because of the guilt or because it was ethical. She appealed to his inner nature.

She appealed to Chuck Bass. She knew him inside and out. She knew about Bart, his mother, Jack—she knew it all. She knew such intimate details of him; he didn't know how they would ever free themselves from each other. He could never see a world where he could want to, and as for her, he didn't know how she could even free herself from him.

They were too involved, too entwined.

It had its disadvantages. She saw him to a painful degree. She saw his insecurities and he was sure she still saw his love for her.

It wasn't fair. He had to struggle while she was perfect and pretty and he had to settle for the Nadines of New York—of the world now that he couldn't have her.

So he went. He hugged Lily and for a moment, he was happy. Because there Blair was, smiling timidly and clearly, she wasn't displeased with him.

She was happy he was there.

It was only in moments like those where their eyes connected and he received grateful texts that he thought he could actually do this. He could live off of those stolen glances.

Because Blair Waldorf knew him.

He saw the roll of her eyes across the room and he knew they were talking about him. But he saw how impressed Nate and Serena were and he saw that she still had the ability to look at him like that.

He could do this.

He could survive.

She was the only one who could ever do that to him. She made him a person. She made him pay attention. She understood him—that was the understatement of the decade.

And this was alright.

He hugged Lily and over her shoulder, he could see his future.

And it didn't look that bleak at all.

All because of one beautiful girl.

**Pride**

_I think I just became a Columbia student. For real. It doesn't make any sense. I never applied._

_Oh, my god. I cannot believe he actually did it. Months ago Chuck joked about applying for you. He said you had too much pride to admit NYU was a mistake._

He saw it. Of course he saw it. They way that no one had ever suspected he would. The Devil and the society princess. No one ever saw that one coming. Except, it made perfect sense. More than the golden girl and that charity case ever did, and everyone just thought those two were _adorable_.

Chuck wasn't going for adorable. He was just going for real. Because being with Blair was the only time he ever felt anything real.

That was why he hated it at times like these. He hated being so irrevocably in love with her, because seeing her struggle killed him. Seeing her struggle, but knowing her refusal to admit it was worse. She was just like him.

Proud to a fault.

She walked stiffly in her high heels and hardly ever returned to the dorm unless she was already there.

He liked her in his bed.

It was home with her there.

But it worried him. He didn't like this side of things. He didn't like her coldness and her emotional unavailability when it came down to it. She was still herself. But he could tell how upsetting it was for her. He could tell how unhappy she was there.

And there wasn't anything he could do about it.

"Where are you going?"

He hated early morning classes before she even said it.

"School."

Cold again. He sat up in bed, still in his nightclothes, disoriented at the ungodly hour.

"Now?" he asked. He knew it was the wrong thing to say, but he couldn't help himself.

He was a selfish bastard. And he wanted her here with him.

"It's in the Village, Chuck.

Her voice was cold and yet again, he couldn't help himself.

"But I'm right here," he smirked, drawing her back to lean on the bed. She looked wistful and sad and he would pay every single tuition in the country if she could just be happy.

Here.

"You know, you could always transfer."

Blair pulled away sharply. She looked at him, almost daring him to say the words that they both knew hung between them.

"Why would I transfer?" she asked darkly.

He knew his attempt had been futile.

She was just as stubborn as he was.

"So you can be close to me," he said teasingly, playing with the strings on her blouse. She slapped his hands away.

"You're selfish, Bass."

"But you knew that before you fell in love with me," he taunted.

"It factored into my decision, believe me," Blair replied, rolling her eyes. Their banter was easy and smooth, as it had always been.

But he still knew. And he knew that she still knew.

"Gone already?"

Nate was around an insurmountable amount of time and Chuck was just glad that his best friend didn't have a girlfriend of his own. He couldn't imagine the sounds that were coming out of the master bedroom.

"School."

Chuck knew his voice was as dark as hers had been.

"I know you don't like the hipsters in mandals there, but-"

"She's unhappy."

He knew, judging by Nate's expression, that the blonde had not been expecting an answer so candid from him. But it was one of those moments where Chuck actually let himself show through his mask.

He had Blair to thank for that.

He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, yet.

"With NYU?" Nate asked.

"I can't imagine why," Chuck asked, sarcasm abusing his tone.

"Why doesn't she just transfer?" Nate asked.

"Because she's Blair," Chuck said with a slight smile, never faulting her for it, quite the opposite in fact. "She's not programmed to fail."

"Can she program herself to transfer?" Nate joked.

"How do you like Columbia?" Chuck asked conversationally.

"What?" Nate asked, taken aback by his friend's quick change of pace.

"I think that would be a good fit."

"For Blair?" Nate asked. "I thought she wasn't going to apply."

"She's not," Chuck replied. "I'm going to do it for her."

"Chuck Bass writing a college essay," Nate said. "That's something I never thought I'd see."

Chuck could tell.

But Nate's disbelief didn't matter. For Chuck, it wasn't a joke.

It was Blair's happiness.

And even though she didn't see it, Chuck cared.


	36. ExHusbands and Wives Part I

**A/N**: Just a warning, this first vignette is more abstract. It's sort of like having vignettes in the middle of a vignette. I know it's a little all over the place, but I hope you like it.

**Summary**: There had always been something between them that she couldn't understand until she was bleeding all over him and crying and writhing and panting. His torture was so sweet and his love was so powerful.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing belongs to me. Quotes belong to GG and corrections are of course my beta's, **comewhatmay.x**. There is also a large amount of _Wuthering Heights_ references and quotes. It's awesome. You should read it.

* * *

**Wuthering Heights**

_That one looks good._

_Chuck and I played 'Wuthering Heights' in it._

At quite a young age, she had found herself reading the only work of Emily Bronte. While others were falling for the romanticism of Jane Austen, she found herself fascinated by the gothic world of the moor. For some unknown reason, the affinity for the story baffled her. She couldn't understand this uncharacteristic attraction in the same way she couldn't understand the questionable ethics of her blonde boyfriend, or why his best friend always seemed to have such an allure about him.

Then it made sense. She had kissed him in a limo and had felt his eyes penetrate her the way everything else did that night. It made sense then. Even through every belittling and snide remark, something about it just made sense.

"_I shall not pity you, not I. You have killed me—and thriven on it, I think. You strong you are!" _

2008.

"I'll try to be more succinct. You held a certain fascination...when you were beautiful, delicate, and untouched. Now you're like...one of the Arabians my father used to own. Rode hard and put away wet."

There had always been something between them that she couldn't understand until she was bleeding all over him and crying and writhing and panting. His torture was so sweet and his love was so powerful.

She reveled in it. He was the only one who could hold her up. He caressed her and ripped her to shreds and she couldn't let him go. He was the only one who had ever been truly inside of her. He was the only one who had looked at her in awe, touching her dark parts with such adoration and worship.

It had turned into too much, but she was she was aware of that the first night. She was losing her virginity to Chuck Bass and that was all there was to it.

There was no coming back from it.

She wasn't like his little playthings, who always wanted to come back for more. She was Blair Waldorf.

But he was Chuck Bass.

They just watched.

She let him slam her against walls.

She loved it too much.

"_How many years do you mean to live after I am gone?...I wish I could hold you...till we were both dead!"_

2010.

"You look beautiful."

Blair stepped out of her grand closet, sweeping the dark dress around her body.

He was staring. He was staring in that flattering way and she wanted to perish with him.

"That's not very period, Bass," Blair pointed out. She had the costume and they were supposed to be role-playing,

"You want me to say something period?" he smirked. She knew he could play just as well as she did.

And play he would.

"Say something romantic," she said softly.

"Is this romantic?" he asked. Her dress was dark and his demeanor was demonic.

"This is real."

"Yes," he said, so pleased with her answer that it didn't seem like a test. "It is."

"Say it."

"Do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you," Chuck whispered seriously. "Oh, God. It is unutterable. I cannot live without my life. I cannot live without my soul."

He knew his lines well.

They didn't seem like they were playing at all.

"_I shouldn't care what you suffered. I care nothing for your sufferings. Why shouldn't you suffer? I do!" _

2008.

"If you were going to tell Nate about us you would have done so in Monaco, but you don't want him to hate you. Game over."

"Game's not over until I say it is."

"Then have fun playing with yourself."

She took pleasure from it. He knew she did. He saw that strut and that smirk he had only ever seen in a mirror. They had always been cold and calculating. He hated it this way. He hated how she was so indifferent to him. He hated how it was so easy for her.

Like it had been for him before he had fallen into a manhole so treacherous he could never pull himself out again. What really frightened him was that he didn't want to. What really frightened him was that she was the apathetic one and he was the pathetic clinger.

He didn't understand it.

Even after his cruelty at the bar, he still watched her. He thought he would hate this fascination too, but the months moved and he felt something like a hurricane of butterflies beating against his stomach.

She looked pretty in pink.

Her kisses were soft and she was so feminine in that dress that he couldn't reconcile this girl on the dance floor at his father's wedding to the cold bitch who had walked up the steps as he flailed helplessly, blogging the only ammunition he had left.

"Three words. Eight letters."

It never occurred to him.

"Say it, and I'm yours."

It never occurred to him that she was suffering as he was. He hadn't thought that she wanted him as much as he wanted her until she was in her bed with his arm thrown over her waist. It was only then that he actually considered the possibility of winning her back.

"I..."

He choked. She had caught him off guard. He thought she was just thrown by her emotions the way he was. It didn't seem as though there could be something deeper.

He was empty of emotion. But he would be lying if he even pretended that this was something familiar. She wasn't like all the other girls. He loved her.

He couldn't even remember a time before her anymore.

And now it was alright. He had fought with that dark dress and the nineteenth century dialect was abandoned for moans and pleas.

She was still a tease. She still took pleasure in torturing him. She nipped at his skin and he couldn't gather his bearings. He never could with her.

"_Will you forget me? Will you be happy when I am in the earth? Will you say twenty years hence, 'That's the grave of Catherine Earnshaw? I loved her long ago, and was wretched to lose her; but it is in the past."_

2010.

"Do you love me?"

He had never been this intimate with a woman before. He had been sexual and physical. He was an animal at heart. He was wild. But with Blair, he was intimate. Their naked bodies were intertwined, his shoulder supporting her head, and he was content to just lay there.

For the first time in his life.

"What?"

He couldn't help his incredulity. It was a ludicrous question. He had said it every day, thought it every minute, felt it every second since that day in front of the limo with peonies and proclamations he would only ever give her.

He sat up.

"Do you love me?" Blair asked again.

"You know I do," he said. "I've said it-"

"I think I would be quite uncomfortable without you," she said diplomatically.

"Say it differently."

He needed to hear it.

"I know this isn't normal."

"Normal," Chuck repeated. "Is that what you want?"

"No," she said, her tone almost one of surprise. "I thought I knew what I wanted. But I want this. I want complete destruction. I want to suffer. I want to feel. I never want to be free of you."

The dress was at the edge of the bed and it was clear what was bringing this on.

She always over thought everything. Then again, so did he. Sometimes. He thought about it too. He thought about things no one should be thinking about at eighteen, especially Chuck Bass.

He was thinking eternity.

He just didn't know that she was thinking it as well.

"Do you love me?" she asked again. He leaned his forehead against hers, gripping her tightly.

"I love you."

No one said it the way he said it and that sentence would never have the same connotation ever again.

"I can't ever be apart from you."

It was frightening.

It was the truth.

"'_I've loved many others since: my children are dearer to me than she was; and, in death, I shall not rejoice that I am going to her: I am sorry that I must leave them!' Will you say so, Heathcliff?"_

2010.

It was wrong. No one understood it. That was why it was the way it was. He stared at her and she couldn't help but think of times when they quoted a book together. She then threw it in a box, afraid to ever look at again.

She knew it would make her feel loved in the way she knew that Chuck could only love her. She took gasping breaths and she missed him.

It was the truth.

"Will you say so, Heathcliff?"

He broke character. She paused and he looked at her with penetrating eyes that could belong to Heathcliff, but she knew belonged to her Chuck.

"I will never love anyone the way I love you," he promised.

"Chuck."

She wanted to sound annoyed, but she wasn't. This was exactly what she wanted to hear.

"I can't," he said. "I just can't."

"Chuck-" she blurted, feeling his approach, feeling the heightened emotion. She couldn't stop it.

"I will die with you."

His hands were hard on the sides of her face and she gripped his hair at the roots. He ripped away her dark dress, tearing at her tights.

She was at a loss of breath.

And she was truly loved.

"_I shall not pity you, not I. You have killed me—and thriven on it, I think. You strong you are! How many years to you mean to live after I am gone?...I wish I could hold you...till we were both dead! I shouldn't care what you suffered. I care nothing for your sufferings. Why shouldn't you suffer? I do! Will you forget me? Will you be happy when I am in the earth? Will you say twenty years hence, 'That's the grave of Catherine Earnshaw? I loved her long ago, and was wretched to lose her; but it is in the past. I've loved many others since: my children are dearer to me than she was; and, in death, I shall not rejoice that I am going to her: I am sorry that I must leave them! Will you say so, Heathcliff?"_

**Courtship**

_Who starts a courtship during the day anyway?_

_Humans who venture out in light and aren't named Bass._

She was disoriented.

She had never woken up in a bed before without knowing where she was. But it was also true that Chuck Bass had never told her that he loved her before.

With the texture of silk sheets beneath her and the strong, familiar scent of scotch, there was no doubting exactly where she was.

The only time she had even come close to this was at age sixteen, having been offered the key to Chuck's suite to seduce his best friend.

The irony of it was that she lost her virginity to _him_.

Chuck Bass.

And now she was here.

Chuck Bass had told her that he loved her and now she was in a bed that she didn't recognize. But there was an arm thrown across her that she did recognize and judging from the fumbling in the dark, there was no doubt as to who it belonged to.

But it _was_ dark. The last thing she remembered was the scorching heat of the sun and something she had never heard before; something she never thought that she would hear.

A little disorientation was acceptable for that.

"You sleep like the dead."

"I suppose the person I love is to blame for that."

She knew he would use that against her until the end of time. But those three words were worth it. He made it even clearer as he finally found her in the dark and his body rolled over hers. And she had to avert her face. She couldn't let him win so easily.

Even if he only acted like this when they were together. She could garner satisfaction from the fact that she knew he was different with her. He had never acted the way he did with her with any other girl. He said three words to her that he had never said in his life and he drew patterns across her palm absentmindedly the way he never knew he was capable of.

"What is it?"

He could find thoughts even she didn't know she was hiding.

He was looking at her, he was scanning her, and she never thought it would be her who was uncomfortable because of feelings.

But it wasn't feelings at all. It was fear that the both of them always felt.

"This doesn't feel any different."

"Different," he repeated.

He could still pull it out of her.

"Being with you," she said quietly, knowing the offense he would take from it even before she said it.

"Me."

When he started repeating her words like that she knew she had damage control to administer.

"It feels like it always does," she said. "Like I'm going to wake up in the middle of the night to find a note on the cold and empty side of the bed."

"You can believe me this time."

No matter how many times he said it, she would never be more afraid of losing anyone than him.

"You know it's not the same," Chuck said. "I know those words mean something to you."

"They mean everything," she answered. "But this still doesn't feel like..."

"A courtship."

He could read her mind to an annoying degree. But he was smirking and she knew that unlike every other conversation they had had in the past year, this wasn't the end. This wasn't some frightening last goodbye.

This was a courtship.

"What are you doing?"

Blair sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest as she watched him dress.

She didn't like this feeling at all.

"I'm courting you."

"I got the flowers, thanks," she said dryly. But he was offering her a cordial arm with his gentlemanly smile and she knew that no matter what, nothing could change who they were when they were together.

"On a date," he amended.

"It's practically midnight," she informed him.

"We exerted ourselves during the day," he reminded her with his lascivious smirk.

"So you're going to court me during the night," Blair said. "That's rather a reversal of tradition."

She had already taken his hand.

It was better that way.

**Don't Bother**

_Why are you whispering? If it's a seduction technique, don't bother._

She liked to pretend that she was a seasoned veteran. In the sense of time passing, she was. She had been dating since she was thirteen. But when it came to developing immunity to Chuck Bass, she really wasn't. All it took was a hand to her wrist at a party, or his arms around her in a blackout, and she knew she was powerless to stop him.

At the time, she had been so close. She let herself believe that he was her foreign boyfriend in a hot bedroom. His kisses were familiar, and most definitely not the pleasant ones she had been receiving for the past week.

It was an all-powerful tempest, and she knew he had planned out the entire night to the detail.

"Titles aside, a suit of armor makes for a cold bed fellow."

She didn't even have to question what he was referring to.

"Not that it's any of your business, but Marcus and I have an amazing sex life."

They always knew each other in such an intimate way.

Even before everything that had happened.

"Where does he put his hands?"

His breath was husky and dark, a technique she knew he had perfected since middle school.

She just never thought it would work on her.

"You are disgusting and I hate you."

"Then why are you still holding my hand?"

It was futile. Because even through her protestations and refusals, he would always find her in the dark—where no one else would care to venture.

It was always his attraction and she knew there was a reason why they were so connected. It wasn't that she was so weak for him that she couldn't help but keep going back to him, no matter what he did. It was that they always went back to each other eventually.

But that didn't mean she was going to give in to him—especially after what he did.

"Don't."

She always did that. She could always read his mind before he even had a chance to exact his plan. She was never like any other girl he had become _acquainted_ with. She was superior and perfect in her deceiving manner.

It was almost worth getting rejected for.

"I wasn't doing anything," he smirked.

"You were about to," she taunted. "Just because Serena has yet again found herself in over her head doesn't change anything that happened between us."

Chuck always felt his face fall whenever she said things like that. He couldn't do anything to stop it. She made it sound like the end and that was something he couldn't accept. He could allow their very temporary separation so they could both heal themselves, but not when she made it sound as if it was really the end of them. He didn't know what to do.

Not that he could let her know that. He couldn't let them fall.

He put his mask back into place.

She still stepped away from him.

He couldn't blame her.

"I said don't, Chuck."

At least she was still calling him by his name. There was a time when she wouldn't even acknowledge his existence.

"You really think it's that easy," she said sadly. "You can't just pull me close and whisper in my ear. It isn't that simple any more."

"I'm not trying to seduce you."

"But you wish you could."

Her voice was still wistful and he wasn't even comforted by the fact she obviously still felt something for him. They would always feel something for each other. They would always feel everything for each other. But that wasn't enough for him. He needed her. He needed her beside him. And he wasn't going to give up on them.

"Don't bother," she sighed.

But in those two simple words, something occurred to him. It occurred to him as he spoke to the feeble blonde on the other end of the line.

No one should bother seducing him. He had his heart and soul focused on one thing only.

He still loved Blair.

No one else mattered and no one should even bother with him because of that sole fact.

And with those two words—whether she admitted it or not—he knew that Blair felt the same way.


	37. ExHusbands and Wives Part II

**A/N**: AHHHHH TONIGHT'S EPISODE! Idk if this is the unpopular opinion, but the last five minutes were just amazing. I have missed my CB. They really save this show.

**Summary**: She was soft and warm, and she held him when he cried and lay next to him when he was tired. Tired of his life, tired of who he was, tired of everything.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing belongs to me. All quotes belong to GG. Awesome corrections is my awesome beta's, **comewhatmay.x**. Everything is awesome.

* * *

**Real**

_I know you felt it._

_We were caught up in a scheme. And it was role-play._

_It was real. I know you feel it right now._

_It doesn't change anything._

With him, it was always so easy to find herself in dangerous waters. That shark-like predatory smirk, the way he could effortlessly get her to near him as though nothing between them had happened, and he could pick up right where he left off.

She hated it. She hated how a part of her wanted it so much and how flattered she was that he could never look away from her. She knew it wasn't normal. But she knew that something so jarring and soul shaking couldn't just be a small detour on the way to her true soul mate. She knew that was what Chuck was.

But she couldn't do it. Not now. And she wasn't even going to start thinking of a time when that would change. It was too much.

As always, however, Chuck had different ideas.

He was a predator. He knew her scent and he would stalk her to the end of the earth. A part of her wanted that so much from him. But she had to move on from this. She needed something simple. The way she always did when she had broken apart from Chuck.

He still found her.

Even when she had cast him out, it seemed fate had other plans for them. Their paths crossed, and yet again, they indulged in another scheme. It was always their weakness. Whenever a scheme came about they found themselves getting closer and closer.

It was dangerous. She had to get this done and get him away from her.

He never was cooperative.

"What are you doing?"

She knew how it had come out. She was playful in a way that she couldn't help but be when she was in his presence. Around others, she felt like a chameleon, morphing into what she was supposed to be with them. But with Chuck, it was different. She wasn't just the playful counterpart he wanted. She was herself. She was completely herself and with no competition.

And he knew that, the smug bastard.

So when she wanted to sound chastising and sneering, it didn't come out that way. She was the way she always had been with him. But he still knew. He knew she was trying to cast him out.

He just didn't care.

"Playing the part," he said smartly.

His hand was warm around hers, and for a moment, she forgot. She forgot that she was just playing and they weren't together again. It wasn't his smirk that was so comforting and so real to her. She had to convince herself. No matter how futilely, she had to convince herself that he didn't accept her for who and what she truly was. She wasn't loved the way no other man could love her.

She couldn't let him. She couldn't let him be any of those things. She was still too in love with him to move on. She was still too in love with him to forgive him.

That was what scared her. She knew how easily they could reconcile, no matter how much she needed them not to.

She knew, even if it did seem inevitable.

The way they always were.

She ripped her hand out of his stubborn grasp with a simple rebuff.

Inside she was screaming. She was screaming for him to just let her go. She could never just put her feelings for him aside. She could never push him away properly.

A part of her didn't care. And it was that part that was so like Chuck. That was what was so dangerous.

Avoiding him would be her only chance for survival.

"After you."

He was so certain that she just couldn't do it. He was motioning towards his limo and for perhaps the only time in her life, she opted for something else.

"No thanks," she said breezily. Chuck followed her eyes to the idling cab by the sidewalk.

Where the Humphreys were standing.

"You're kidding," he stated in disbelief.

Blair just shrugged and turned her back on Chuck.

"You're riding with us?" Dan asked with equal uncertainty. Blair watched as the little blonde Humphrey slid into the cab first.

"Yes," Blair said tensely.

"Why?" Dan couldn't help but ask tactlessly.

"Because I need to," Blair snapped and Dan took a step away from her. She was so tired of other's attempts at controlling her.

Starting with her feelings. She was always swept away by any passionate feeling she had and she just wished she could control herself for once.

She wished she could keep herself away from him.

Dan wasn't standing away from her anymore; instead he was watching her watch Chuck watching her.

A triangle of pairs of dark eyes stared each other down before Chuck finally, begrudgingly, entered his limo.

"Oh," Dan said.

"Don't say it like it's so easy for you to understand," Blair said, her voice reaching an edgy tone.

"No, you're right," Dan acquiesced. "You're so unique that no one can understand what it's like to be in love."

"Don't mock me, Humphrey," Blair said in distaste.

"I'm not," Dan said. "I'm just saying, it's hard to need to be near someone when you can't."

"It doesn't change anything," Blair muttered.

"How you feel about him doesn't change anything?" Dan asked.

"It just doesn't, alright?" Blair asked, finally following the peroxide blonde into the waiting taxi.

She knew it didn't make sense. She just hoped she could convince Chuck that it did.

**Danger**

_I did the most dangerous thing I could when I said 'I love you.' But it was worth it._

More than anything, Chuck understood danger. He was born into it. He lived and breathed it. If there was one thing that he wasn't accustomed to, it was safety.

And then she had to go and ruin everything.

She was soft and warm, and she held him when he cried and lay next to him when he was tired. Tired of his life, tired of who he was, tired of everything.

That was the thing. He lived in a world of twisted irony and distinct unhappiness. The one person who made him safe was the one person who scared him.

So he ran.

He ran to Thailand, and then to Prague. Any place that was the last place she would ever show up. He asked her not to come for him and she didn't.

She loved him.

She would do what he requested.

She truly could be selfless for him. If only he could give her the same courtesy.

He was infinitely jealous and horribly cruel. But it was all for her. He had a soul. He just never used it. He only accessed his kindness when it came to her.

But his feelings were always double-edged. He could never love anyone as much as her and he could never hurt anyone as much as he did her.

Or hate.

He hated her easy grace and how she moved so flawlessly from beau to beau. A regular Scarlett O'Hara.

She was dangerous. She was dangerous only for him.

She made him feel and she made him remorseful.

He did everything in his power to push her away.

He slept around. He did illegal substances. He threw hurtful words in her face—it was the only power he had.

She fought as much as she was able, and for that, he had to give her credit.

She could hurt him too. She hurt him with her endless love, but then there was everything else. There were those words that were as cruel as his and the constant pretending that being with someone else could compare.

Especially when it came to his best friend. That was what hurt most of all. It was déjà vu of the worst kind. It was a flashback to the year before and he was even more distraught in the present.

Now he knew that he loved her.

It was even worse.

He liked the danger. Blair Waldorf was the one person who would always keep him safe.

But she did it by the most underhanded of means.

"Tell me if what you feel for me is real. Or if it's just a game."

"It's just a game."

He tried to do it.

"You know how I hate to lose."

He really did try to make things better. He tried to—for once—actually do the right thing. God knew he needed practice at it, considering everything that had transpired. He tried to be Nate. He wanted her to be happy. And if he told her to go off with his best friend, he would be partly responsible for that. Indirectly, he could make her happy.

He tried to be someone else. But then he found her stripping and leaning over him, asking for words to match feelings he had buried beneath the surface.

He almost fell for it.

He almost thought that he could actually do all of this.

"You slept with Jack?"

And then there was that.

Nothing mattered after that. He was cold and in despair at the thought of her sharing a bed with his last living blood relative.

Bed. Bathroom stall. Alley. It didn't really matter.

It still hurt more than anything.

This safety hurt him to the bone.

And he loved her.

He loved her so hard and so desperately that he grew tired. He grew tired of wandering around European countries and rebuffing the advances of anything that came across him.

He was tired of living a lie. She smirked at him from every reflection in every window. She taunted him and his nefarious habits. She tortured him with every present he bought her, as though even the hallucinations he conjured up of her knew what was really brewing inside.

He was so tired.

He wouldn't be hurt. He wouldn't be angry.

He was just Chuck Bass.

He breathed in danger as easily as her perfume. He did the most frightening and terrible thing he could think of.

"I love you too."

And there was his sweet girl.

**Bravery**

_We're never going to be safe. So are you brave enough or aren't you?_

"No matter what I feel or don't, we're not safe."

It was in that simple sentence. He knew exactly what she was feeling. He knew the exact truth. He was better at analyzing people than anyone.

Other than her, of course.

They were too evenly matched. They were too perfect for each other. There was too much fire, hurling masses of it at each other until they both combusted.

But that was how he liked it. And he knew she did too.

Even now.

That one sentence told him everything.

She was always clever that way. She was clever in the way that he was. She said everything when she said nothing.

He knew that she still loved him. The exact way he loved her. A love that was hard, bleeding and fatal.

It was the way they both loved.

It pleased him. She was rejecting him. She was being cold and going off with someone else.

But she felt something. She felt everything with him.

"Holland may have been crazy, but she was right. We're not safe."

The incredibly true statement struck him by surprise. As though that was all she really desired.

Safety. Security. He could give her that. That was what scared her. What scared her even more was that she never felt anything with anyone the way she did with him.

She was pushing him away.

But he could handle it.

He didn't want safety. He knew on the most primal level that she didn't either. She wanted the raw passion. She wanted dark and twisted. She wanted the hurt. She wanted the ecstasy. She wanted it all. Just the way he did.

They were the same.

Never in his life would he refer to himself as brave. He was a coward and he was selfish.

There was a time when he would have thought that she was the same.

But she pulled him off of ledges. She stuck her finger down his throat and she purged him of every ill feeling that he could be rid of. She held back his hair.

They weren't cowards. They were only afraid of each other. He was watching her in her ball gown as her rugged athlete came to take her away. He didn't look at Chuck twice.

This was the way it always was. It was always Chuck on that last corner of the triangle. He was always watching her, vying for her, pining for her. It didn't seem fair that after all this time she would find someone that could make her as perfect as she was when she was with him.

And he knew what it came down to it, it was easier to take that other way. It was easier to be happy with someone else than it was to be so blissfully complete when she was with him. The course of true love never did run smooth and that was what made him keep coming back.

He loved her more than he could ever love anything in existence.

He liked it this way. He liked being the way he was and he knew that she did too. He didn't want her to hide herself the way she did with anyone other than him. So for her he would be brave. For her, he would show that without safety, they could be everything.

And so he waited.


	38. Last Tango, Then Paris Part I

**A/N**: Last episode! Only one more chapter after this.

**Summary**: There were looks shared at his stepmother's wedding and toasts made after his father's nuptials. Even though they had unsatisfactory track records with weddings, there was that look. There was that look during Lily's vows, and in that moment, he knew for certain. She was the girl he was going to marry.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing belongs to me. Quotes and characters belong strictly to Gossip Girl. All corrects belong to **comewhatmay.x**.

* * *

**Feelings**

_People don't just kiss because they're upset. People kiss because they have feelings for each other._

He made her laugh

It wasn't really something she had ever analyzed before.

But he made her laugh.

He was dark, cunning, and horribly depraved. There was something about Chuck Bass that no one else could emulate.

Not that anyone would want to.

Nate was sweet. He was sweet and pure and he made her smile. But there wasn't anything about him that invoked the dark urges that she had or the primal instincts she possessed.

"I'm honored to be playing even a small role in your deflowering."

"You're disgusting."

He was perverse.

But she was smiling. He was horrible and depraved but there was something dark within her that just responded him. There was something in her that had been there since inception that lured her to such darkness.

Something she could never understand.

It got them in trouble, to say in the least. But she never considered it would play out the way it had. She and Chuck could always communicate with subtle non-verbal cues, but suddenly, it seemed different from what she had originally thought.

Soon knowing smirks turned into probing stares. And suddenly, she was thinking that it wasn't sudden at all. Suddenly, she was thinking that it had been there all along.

"You know, I've got moves."

"Then why don't you get up there?"

"No. I'm just saying I have moves."

"Come on. You're ten times hotter than any of those girls."

But that was how they usually spoke to each other. There was the teasing flirtation that Chuck couldn't possibly rein in. He was a lustful beast and he didn't treat her differently just because they were friends . He respected her.

But he was still Chuck Bass.

_"You're ten times hotter than any of those girls."_

That's the way it had always been. It was just Chuck.

But this was different. Somehow, it was just different. He would nudge her playfully and make her laugh begrudgingly with him.

It was frightening.

_No matter how long you try to be good, you can't keep a bad girl down._

What was most frightening was the realization the moment she had stripped down and started dancing on a burlesque stage.

She wasn't the same at all. She was different.

"You're a natural."

Blair hadn't given any thought to actually coming down from the stage, or her free-spirited high. But even Chuck's sneering perversion didn't seem to deter her.

It was almost comfortable.

"You're disgusting," Blair said automatically.

She didn't like how he was looking at her. It was too knowing, too penetrating.

The word itself made her uncomfortable.

"You say that so many times," Chuck said slowly, "it's stopped holding any weight."

"You are disgusting," Blair affirmed her belief.

"I know," Chuck answered. "But I don't know if you do."

He was looking at her. And it wasn't in a way that she had seen him look at any other girl. He wasn't the devil looking to corrupt her. This was Chuck Bass. This was the Chuck that no one else saw.

She had to wonder why.

"People are staring at us."

"They're staring at you," Chuck pointed out. "Because you're beautiful."

"Or because I conveniently lost my dress."

"You're beautiful," he said.

She hated the pregnant pauses that always seemed to stretch between them when no one was listening.

No one ever seemed to listen.

"Chuck, we've talked about this, " Blair said. "You know I don't like it when you look at me like that."

"But I always look at you like this."

"I know," she said. "It's just occurring to me now that maybe you shouldn't."

"Maybe I shouldn't," he said. "Maybe I should."

Maybe he should always.

"Thanks for the lift home."

And she knew.

"You were...amazing up there."

She just knew, and that was the problem. She had always known. On some primal level, there had always been something there.

"You have got to be kidding."

"This should be fun."

They were always connected.

"You don't get nearly enough credit for your wit."

Even in just a strictly vengeful fashion.

"No one knows Nate and I broke up and it's going to stay that way so I can fix this. And I don't think your best friend would really be your best friend if he knew-"

"If he knew how much I enjoyed removing a certain chastity belt in the back of this very limo?"

It was just hormones. She needed someone and he was there.

That was it.

"You sound like a jealous boyfriend."

It had to be.

"You forget who you're talking to."

There was no possible way.

"So do you."

They were just friends. They were purely platonic. Nothing else was possible.

"You were...amazing up there."

But she kissed him. He hadn't orchestrated the entire night. It wasn't his fault. He was just sitting there complimenting her. She knew that he had no intention of seducing her.

She had seduced him. She seduced him in the most basic sense. She slid over to him and kissed him so passionately she couldn't understand it until that very moment.

She kissed him because she wanted to.

"Do you...like me?"

Because she wanted him.

And it wasn't for the first time.

"Define 'like.'"

**Romantic**

_What are you doing? _

_Trying to forget. I did the most romantic thing I could think of and it didn't work._

It wasn't some hasty decision. It wasn't because she was revoking her affection towards him for eternity. It wasn't because the threat of losing her was too great.

The walk to Harry Winston was something Chuck had been planning for a long time. Perhaps since the night at _Victrola_. Maybe before. Maybe it had been as long as he had known her.

It wasn't something he advertised—and certainly not to her.

But there was something.

There were looks shared at his stepmother's wedding and toasts made after his father's nuptials. Even though they had unsatisfactory track records with weddings, there was that look. There was that look during Lily's vows, and in that moment, he knew for certain.

She was the girl he was going to marry.

She had to be.

There was nothing else. Nothing else could ever make his existence worthwhile.

But there was her.

She loved him. She saw in him something he never thought existed.

She loved him.

And that was all that mattered—even when things got infinitely more complicated.

Blogs were blasted about his best friends cheating on each other and he really wanted to care. But he just shrugged. He watched Nate stare blankly at his phone and as he held onto a bag from Harry Winston and he just shrugged.

He escorted peonies past his feuding friends and gave Nate counsel over choosing a proper suit for the meeting, but what really mattered was what he kept guarded in his room.

"Where were you?" Nate sounded tired and distressed, but it was the one thing Chuck could really count on him to do.

Nate cared.

"Out on an errand."

"An errand?" Nate asked suspiciously. "Don't you have people for that?"

"I couldn't trust anyone to do this for me," Chuck said. "This is one thing I had to do. No one else could..."

Nate's eyes traveled to the bag and Chuck trailed off.

"I know I haven't always been supportive..."

"Don't strain yourself with trying to-"

"But she's yours," Nate said. "She always has been. And no matter what happens—no matter what happens tonight and after—she always will be."

"Thank you," Chuck stated.

"I just hope you know what you're doing."

"I don't know what I'm doing," Chuck laughed shortly. "I haven't since that first night. But I know how I feel. For the first time in my life, I know what I have to do. And I'd never choose anything else."

"Good," Nate said. "Because she won't either. Not if you don't make her."

"That's foreboding," Chuck said.

"If there are two people who are supposed to be together, it's the two of you," Nate said. "Just be careful."

It was beautiful. It was grand, it sparkled, and it was transcendent. Just like her.

Only he could have picked something so perfect for her. He knew this. Standing on the roof of the Empire State Building, he knew this. He knew it with such religious conviction that he may as well been among them, worshipping at the altar of Blair Waldorf.

But he shook. He doubted, because he always doubted himself. No matter how much he knew they were supposed to be together, he always did something to break them apart.

He didn't do it because she was moving on. He didn't pick an engagement ring to pledge his life to her as a last resort. He did it because beyond any reasonable doubt, he loved her more than any other person had loved another in the history of the world.

It wasn't possible anyone could feel for another the way he did for her.

He wanted her to be his wife.

He knew that there could never be anyone else for him. Maybe she could settle, but he could never defile the sanctity of marriage by promising himself to another when his soul would only belong to her. He could never promise life long fidelity and loyalty to anyone but her.

He belonged with her. Now and forever.

"Have you seen a young man here, most likely in a bowtie, possibly carrying peonies?"

But it was too late.

**Empty**

_The world you're looking for only exists from the outside. The only reason I survive in it is because I always knew it was empty._

He blamed her. That was really the only thing he could do.

He blamed her for everything. If it weren't for her, he would still be living in a lovely world of ignorant bliss. If it weren't for her, he would still believe that there wasn't really anything worth living for.

He followed by example. That was the only obedient thing he ever did. He watched his father with his models and his concubines and he truly thought that was normal. He thought that being emotionally unavailable and alone was the way to be.

He couldn't understand Nathaniel and his need to be tied down. All he knew was achieving selfish pleasure at any cost, and he couldn't see the value in being forced into subservience by a slight, bitchy brunette.

Sometimes, he wished he could still live in that ignorant world. Sometimes, he wished his father was still alive and constantly berating him for everything he couldn't do right. He saw the pretty things, the pretty girls, and the pretty substances. That was what he knew. He knew how cold and alone it was there.

But that was the way it was supposed to be.

So why wasn't it?

Why was it that when she looked upon him with that sly gaze of hers did he feel something so unique? How could he feel something he had never felt any other time with her? How could she smile at him at all?

He knew what people thought of him. He knew that it was his place in the world to corner girls in kitchens and on roofs. He was Chuck Bass and he knew that all he was good for was making money and getting laid.

That was all he knew.

So maybe he was supposed to screw her. She was so readily available and his best friend hadn't cared about her in so long that it shouldn't have mattered.

But she was hurting him.

He was the one that was pushing inside her and breaking her barrier and making her bleed. But he hurt. He hurt everywhere. His guts were being peeled apart, piece by piece, and his heart was about ready to burst in his chest. He was scratched on the inside, torn up and wounded in a way that he couldn't even understand. He had never let anyone in, so how could he feel anything at all?

She purred and she licked like a pleased little kitten and he was confused. She should cry. She should beg him to stop. She should squirm and whimper, like a wounded little animal. But she grabbed the back of his head with such strength, arching her back and raking her nails down his back.

He hurt. She laughed, moaned, and dug her heels into her back.

She liked it. She liked all of it.

He felt as though he was withering to death inside. She was something so beautiful and pure that he never should have been allowed inside. She was scorching him, burning him with her perfection and he couldn't understand how something could be so meaningful.

He saw the misery his best friend went through and he saw the tears that she shed. He saw those tears that he knew were attributed to the abuse of a malicious parent.

Everything was so dark, painful, and hard here. Everything hurt.

Everything hurt but her.

She was fake and shiny on the outside. She was the epitome of this world. She was perfect and flawless. But there was something dark brewing beneath.

Up until that moment, he thought all he saw was darkness. There was nothing beneath. All there had to be was a howling abyss that consumed and devoured.

But she looked at him.

"It's not enough."

"What else is there?"

He didn't know. He couldn't know. He couldn't understand her. She was so pretty and white, and she wanted something from him. All there had to be was physical pleasure. He couldn't allow himself the disappointment.

He knew this. He was bred for this. There was no underneath. There was what the world saw and nothing but pain.

That was why she hurt so much. She lured him. She seduced him. She tricked him.

"Three words. Eight letters."

He had pretty words. He said the things she wanted to hear, not for one moment thinking that he actually felt them. It was too much. It was too much to feel happy.

But she made him happy. He grinned at her and he actually laughed without a scornful sneer in sight. He was freed of his father's cold chains of domination and she laid her head on his shoulder and he could breathe again.

She smelled sweet. She smelled like forever.

He had to hate her. He had to hate her for drawing him from the darkness to see her beautiful light.

But he loved her. She saw something in him. She believed in him. He used to relish the darkness and the pain of others just to keep him going.

Then there was her. There was her sweet tightness and her relief. She made his muscles unclench and she let him be himself with her. He could live now.

"That's it?"

He didn't think it was possible.

But there was fulfillment.

There was ecstasy.

"I love you too."

She made everything worth it.


	39. Last Tango, Then Paris Part II

**A/N**: OMG Canadian promo. Just saying.

So here's the deal. I don't really know what the consensus is for me to continue this into season 4. I have approached the idea for doing season 4 allusions, but I'm not really sure if it will happen. Personally, Reminiscence was really exhausting, so if I even consider continuing on, it won't be for awhile. And obviously if no one really cares to read it, then it won't happen.

Anyway, here's the last chapter of the fic! I really hope you like it.

**Disclaimer**: Nothing belongs to me. All quotes and characters will always be the property of Gossip Girl. Thank you so much to my amazing beta **comewhatmay.x** who went on this arduous ride with me and put up with this monstrosity. And thank you of course to those of you who are still reading. It means a lot.

* * *

**Offer**

_You're not kicking me out into the street? Lucky me._

_Hey, some people don't get the offer._

"Get out."

He had barely rolled off of her when the words spilled from his mouth. It wasn't anything he could control. He couldn't contain his disgust for himself.

His already feeble and chemical induced excuse for euphoria was slipping away and he could remember again.

He could remember it all.

He was lucky. She was one of the ones that didn't protest. There was some who actually had the audacity to attempt to crawl back into his bed.

It was even more repulsive than the disgust he felt for himself.

He ignored the nameless girl, already buttoning his shirt and ready to pour a tall glass of shame and an even taller one of scotch.

"It was nice meeting you."

Chuck hesitated outside of his door, met with big blue eyes that were filled with judgment. He was fully prepared to roll his own at his soon-to-be-stepsister, who had a sudden interest in meddling in his affairs.

The elevator closed behind the conquest and just as he was about to reach a destination of full inebriation, he didn't have to wonder.

Serena's sudden care to his comings, goings and _doings_ was suddenly very apparent.

As apparent as how quickly his pathetic heart halted at the sight of those enormous dark eyes.

"Do you even try to not be selfish?" Blair asked coolly, rising from her position next to Serena. "Or do you not bother finishing them off anymore?"

"If you wanted so badly to be _finished_," Chuck sneered, "you need to take a number, just like everyone else."

"I'm sorry, B," Serena cut in, eying Chuck stonily, "I didn't know he would be here tonight."

"Why wouldn't he?" Blair asked coolly, never taking her eyes off of him. "This is where the alcohol is."

"Is that supposed to be an insult?" Chuck couldn't help but sneer.

"It is when it's the only thing you need for completion," Blair bit back.

"As I remember it," Chuck said silkily, making his way slowly towards her, "you used to need me very much in that department."

Blair stiffened, not expecting him to make a physical move towards her. But she didn't need Serena to be her protector.

"Thank god I got over that temporary insanity," Blair rolled her eyes. He knew it was just a sparring at that point, but it was the first real contact they'd had since those admittedly cruel words he'd slung in the bar.

He couldn't help but like it.

He liked how she played with him.

Serena took her best friend by the hand, leading her past Chuck to get to the blonde's bedroom. Blair's body was just as lithe and graceful as he remembered as she slithered past him.

Almost.

"You're the only one I let linger all over me in the back of my limo after you collapsed with satiation."

His hand grasped her forearm, and she felt stretched between her best friend and him, Serena's hand still pulling on hers.

"Am I supposed to swoon with flattery?" she asked.

He let his grip loosen. He always let her believe she had won.

He could feel Serena relax as she continued on.

"No," he finally answered and Blair hesitated again. "When I say that's how it was for us every time is when you swoon."

He knew Serena had very little knowledge about her best friend's liaison with the Devil. He did have to give it to her, because despite her obvious curiosity, she still pulled Blair along.

"You say that to all the girls."

Serena was insistent, but Blair couldn't help but indulge in the urge that always begged her to spar with him.

"If I let them into the limo, maybe," he said. "But whatever I do, which will most definitely cause your distaste, you will never be evicted from it."

"Someone catch me, my knees are weak," Blair mocked.

"You were the only one who understood," he said, unperturbed.

He liked her glance of annoyance.

He raised his glass of scotch to her. "Until next time."

"Forget him, B," Serena said. "He's just being Chuck."

"Don't I wish I could."

**Alive**

_Blair, I thought you didn't love me anymore. I didn't care if I lived or died._

It wasn't the first time he had stood teetering on the edge of a building. Although this building was the Empire State Building and not just a mere club, the feeling was still the same. The peonies that used to be in his hand had been so viciously discarded, because there was one truth that was painfully obvious.

This was the end.

He looked over the edge of the building, noting the guardrails, appreciating the fact that it wouldn't be nearly as easy to accidentally fall, even with a bottle of Jack in hand.

No one was here to pull him back.

He wouldn't do it. Not because it wouldn't bring relief, but because he couldn't care enough to. He was so exhausted that even making the decision to end it all meant nothing. Everything meant nothing.

If he spent the rest of his days drinking himself to death with conquests and the like, it wouldn't matter. But if he crossed the street right at that moment and got hit by a cab, he would be just as apathetic. It didn't matter.

Nothing did.

He couldn't stay. The sea of people walking below mesmerized him, but it was just too much. A better man would have stayed.

But a better man wouldn't have loved her that much. He couldn't stay because of the pain. He couldn't drag out the long moments of waiting to find out that she really wasn't coming. That was even worse.

It was his curse to love her too much, too obscenely. He knew for the rest of his life everything would be a blur. Even the scotch he consumed had lost its taste. He didn't see faces or colors. He promised her that he would close his heart to her forever.

That was a joke. Even if he had wanted to do so, his heart forbade him from it. He didn't have the ability. She was all he had. And without her, he was just an empty shell.

So instead, he just closed his heart to everything.

It may have been unhealthy, but this was the way it always had been. This was the way he was before her. No care, no remorse. The only love he had was the hesitant affection for his father and that was no better.

He saw where his future lay and it was bleak. She made him better. He was the best version of himself when he was with her.

No one seemed to understand that. Everyone saw the cruelty and pain that surrounded the both of them like an aura, but no one saw them when they were alone. No one could ever understand them.

He didn't remember how he had gotten back to his penthouse. The place was haunted and would forever be tainted for him. He had risked everything to get it back—to get his father's meaningless and irrelevant appreciation—and it hadn't even been worth it. Now he would be forever reminded of how he killed them just for this place.

He was very aware of a roof that was so conveniently located, but it didn't matter. Whether he died that very night so melodramatically, or weeks from now from the inevitable alcohol poisoning, it didn't matter.

He was going to die eventually. And he was going to die without her.

That was the point.

He just sat down. No substance could dull the pain. It only muddled his mind.

It was just as painful as it was before—a sixteen year old watching his best friend and a very recent lover pulling at each other's clothes on their way up to a hotel room. It was just as painful as his father's death, and just as painful as her rejection.

It would never lessen. In a better world, the pain could recede. He could be a normal person like his friends, who brushed away heartache like tears; one touch and you would have never known it was there to begin with.

It would never fade.

She was everything to him. She was his beginning and end.

Black.

Now it really was.

Death.

The end.

**Last Breath**

_Take me to a bank. I will get you the money. Just let me keep the box._

It was something so small, so simple. But it was something he felt that he had always known. He walked back into the penthouse, almost grateful for Gossip Girl's timing because Nate didn't ask what was in the bag.

But it could have been anything. Everyone knew he had a penchant for buying Blair pretty things when he didn't know what else to do.

This was different.

This was something he had always known.

Their first reconciliation had occurred on a wedding dance floor. She wrapped her arms around him truly for the first time at her mother's. He held her hand during a following one.

It was all so clear.

It was always there, brewing in the back of his mind.

"All I did was love you."

And then he was confused. He stood there, watching her walk away, tears in her eyes, and he just stood there.

"Goodbye, Chuck."

He could count the number of times she had said that to his face, the different variations of letting him go. But she always came back.

He had to keep that in mind.

They weren't supposed to leave each other. They were supposed to be forever.

That was the whole point.

It was almost seemed too obvious. He had been thinking of it this the whole time. Never saying it for fear that it was too soon, but it had always been there. She had always been there for him. There had been conquests and other women, but this was it. It was too clear to him. No one could ever make him feel the way he felt for her and that spelled out everything for him.

They were meant to be.

Destined.

Everything he thought but could never say.

He was Chuck Bass.

But what he couldn't say he always showed. He thought Blair knew that. He knew he had hurt her and done unforgivable things. But he would do anything to remedy that.

And he knew that she felt the same. They were always the same, thinking the same things, seeing the same answers. And he knew that she felt the same way.

He knew marriages were hard and divorces were frequent where they lived, but they were different. They were too right for each other to ever let that go.

It could never be too late for them. He wouldn't let it. He couldn't be given this beautiful and perfect thing just to have it torn from him.

He knew he deserved it. If you could call Satan a divine intervention, Chuck could believe that Jack was sent to torture him by some higher power. He deserved comeuppance for every horrible thing he had done, and this was the perfect way to do that.

Make him fall in love with his equal just to have her taken away and leave him crippled for the rest of his life.

It was brilliant, really.

But he refused that endgame. She was it. And that was the way things would be.

It was so simple. The ironic twist to everything being so complicated.

This wasn't an easy fix. He wasn't doing it to buy her affections. But for him, this was the way they had been heading all along.

It was strange, how to Chuck Bass, marriage was the most sacred act. He would never enter into that bond with anyone but her.

It was so small.

It was so right.

It was shining and beautiful and completely her.

He was nervous.

He felt himself hyperventilate and wheeze but it would all be right in the end.

Maybe it was too soon. Maybe they would wait. But it didn't matter because as long as it was with her, everything would be all right. He could never love anyone else the way he loved her, and that he was sure of.

He was sure, even when she didn't show up. There was a sort of clarity that came down to it all. He understood that she wasn't coming. She could never come after everything that he had done. He didn't deserve her perfection.

But he wasn't letting go either.

Even after what he had done, there was some muscle in him that would forever be clenched. His heart always longed for her, needed her.

He didn't let that go either.

The bag with the ring stayed on his bedside table. And soon it would be in his safe. Locked away in some deep recess where no one could ever get to it but him.

That was the way he had always been and now that she had flitted too far in the distance for him to catch, that was the way it would be again.

It was so small, but it meant the world.

He could get rid of anything. He could lose his empire, his assets, and the art hanging everywhere. But this was something that would never leave him. He couldn't let it go. If everything else went, it would be the only thing left to ever remind him of her. He would keep it forever. He would keep it because he wasn't ridding her from his heart either.

He wondered what she would have said.

"There's no need to get rough."

He didn't understand how it had come to this. In a way, he was almost grateful. He didn't see it coming, but foreign words were being yelled at him and they didn't understand the meaning of Chuck Bass.

He would relinquish anything.

Anything but that.

That was the only thing that would ever remind him that he had once had her.

And he would keep it until his dying breath.

"Just let me keep the box."

And he did.


End file.
